


Dominoes

by CyrusBreeze



Category: Station 19 (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Angsty Schmoop, F/M, Racism, Single Parents, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-05-15 01:46:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19285594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrusBreeze/pseuds/CyrusBreeze
Summary: He’s a single dad trying to navigate raising his daughter in an increasingly terrifying world. She’s a single mom dealing with son’s deadbeat dad and her own abandonment issues. Their worlds collide at a summer camp. It shouldn’t work. But, like dominoes, despite obstacles, things have an uncanny way of falling into place.A story about romance, love, adoption, race, identity, grief, and the way these things collide





	1. In Which There Is a Meet Cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile now, but I recently attended a camp for transracial adoptees, and this story took off. 
> 
> So, this is a story about adoption. This story is a little bit less unicorns and rainbows than other stories. It’s not super depressing, but it is as realistic as I could stand to make it. As the summary says, this is about grief, race, identity, adoption, and the way that these intersect. 
> 
> This story (but not this chapter) will discuss, in depth, race and racism. This includes depictions of racially motivated violence and police brutality as well as microagressions and references to the N-slur. Art mimics life, and as such, this will mimic some real life experiences.  
> I will warn in depth when a chapter is going to discuss these matters, so you can skip it if you want. (But it will come up a lot in this fic...) 
> 
> This story will be based on years of research, academic writing, and personal experience both in person and online. 
> 
> Each chapter will have references at the end of anyone is interested in further research or what’s to know where I’m coming from. 
> 
> This story is very, very close to my heart, as a future child and family services worker, a sibling to foster kids, and an advocate and activist for people of color, especially kids of color. 
> 
> This work is an outlet for me to write about something I’m extremely interested in and something that is near and dear to me. I am absolutely writing this for myself lol and it is a complete act of self indulgence.
> 
> I would absolutely love to chat with you if you’re interested in talking about any of the elements of this story.

**Instagram**

**_vhughes_** :  
Another year of camp in the books! This was my first year as a presenter and I couldn’t have been more blessed to conduct two workshops. On day 1, I got to facilitate a workshop with high schoolers where we talked about some very difficult and very emotional topics. And on Day 2, I got to laugh, cry, and speak candidly with my siblings about integrating multiple cultures into an adoptive family. My baby, Leo had an absolute blast playing with the other kids and making so many new friends. I love seeing my kiddo learn new things and explore, and sharing culture camp with him when he can start to understand it has truly been an awesome experience. I don’t think I will ever get tired of spending four days seeing families that look like mine did when I was a kid, families that don’t “match.” I know I say this every year, but camp blows me away. Having experienced both sides of it, I know that I am incredibly lucky and blessed to have a place like this. #SummerCampRocks #CultureCamp #FamiliesLikeMine

-X-

“Dad, are you sure we’re going to the right place?” Imani asks. 

Lucas furrows his eyebrows, staring at the map on his phone. The directions aren’t very clear. “It says that it’s supposed to be at this building,” Lucas says. 

Imani is near vibrating with excitement, which is understandable. She’s been ready for camp since Lucas registered the two of them in February. “I think we’re lost, Dad,” Imani says, sounding dejected. 

“Not lost,” Lucas says. “We just don’t know where we are.” 

“So, we’re lost,” Imani repeats. 

“Maybe,” Lucas replies.

Imani sighs. “What if we miss it?” 

“We won’t miss it,” Lucas promises. “Check-in doesn’t even open for another hour, and the opening ceremony isn’t for two hours after that. We have time, kiddo, I promise.” 

“I know, I know,” Imani says. “I’m just super excited.” 

“And we’ll figure it out, Imani,” Lucas reassures his daughter. 

Imani beams, and in that moment, she looks just like her father. It’s weird, sometimes, seeing his best friend in his daughter. Imani is more of a carbon copy of Claire than anything, but there are moments, like right now, where he sees Robert too. 

“Can I see the map?” Imani asks. 

Lucas obliges. It can’t hurt. 

“I think we walk this way,” Imani offers. 

Lucas shrugs. They’re lost, very lost, but somehow, Lucas feels like things will fall into place. 

-X-

She can tell that he’s new from the look on his face. 

After 15 years at culture camp, Vic is a pro at determining the first timers from the regulars. 

The man in question is tall, blond, and he’s staring at his phone as if it will grow a mouth and suddenly tell him wear to go. 

His daughter looks incredibly excited, and she’s fidgeting by his side as the man stares at his phone. Her hair is in box braids, and the tips of it are a hot pink. 

“Do you need some help?” She asks, smiling. 

The man looks up and Vic notices that his eyes are a bright, piercing blue. 

“I’m looking for check in for Culture Camp for Adoptive Families,” he says slowly. 

Vic beams. “You’re in the right place,” she says. “Although you’re a little early.”

“Our flight got in early and we dropped our stuff off and wanted to check in,” the man explains. 

“Okie doke,” Vic says. “That’s absolutely fine. I’m Victoria Hughes. I’m the parent volunteer coordinator, but right now I’m running registration because my mom is supposed to be at the table but her flight got delayed.” 

“Hi, Victoria,” the man says. “I’m Lucas Ripley, and this is my daughter, Imani.”

“Hello, Lucas. Hi, Imani,” Vic says, grinning. “Let’s get you your family bag. Is it under Ripley?” She asks. 

(You can never be too sure as far as last names go with families at camp.) 

“It’s under Ripley,” Lucas says. “Well, Imani should be under Ripley-Sullivan.” 

It takes Vic a moment to find their family bag, but she does. 

She places the bag on the table. . 

“You guys are first timers?” She asks. 

Lucas nods. 

“Let me explain the bags, then,” she says. 

“So you’ll get a schedule that is color coded,” Vic begins. She turns to Imani. “What grade are you in?” 

“I’ll be in fourth this year,” Imani answers. 

“That’s so cool!” Vic says. She peeks in the bag at the color of Imani’s shirt. It’s teal. “Guess what?” 

“What?” Imani responds. 

“My brother is your counselor,” Vic replies. She grins. 

“Is he nice?” Imani asks cautiously. 

“He’s the best,” Vic says. 

“That’s so cool!” Imani says. 

“And you wanna know a secret?” Vic adds, lowering her voice for dramatic effect. 

“What?” Imani asks, leaning in. 

(Vic loves getting kids more excited for camp.) 

“Isaiah is my favorite brother,” Vic replies. 

“Oooo,” Imani says. 

It only takes a moment for the desired effect, because Zach pokes his head around the counter and says, “Hey, I heard that!” 

Vic sticks her tongue out at Zach. “Imani, this is my _other_ favorite brother, Zach. He’s a counselor for the first graders.” 

“Hi,” Zach says with a wave. 

“Hi,” Imani and Lucas reply in unison. 

“Well, let me explain the rest of your bag to you,” Vic says, returning her focus to the tote bag. ”And here’s your name tags. Imani’s has her birth country on hers, and yours, Lucas, has your hometown. Alsp, there’s some paperwork here in case you need to indicate a diverse need.” 

“I only have one leg,” Imani interjects. “So sometimes my leg hurts when I walk too much.” 

Vic smiles. “Well, this paper will make sure that both of your counselors know about it so that they can make sure you have everything you need.” 

“That’s so cool!” Imani says. 

Vic smiles at her and then repacks the family bag. 

“Did you have any questions?” Vic asks. 

Lucas furrows his eyebrows. He looks kinda cute when he’s confused, Vic notes. Then, she immediately reprimands herself. She shouldn’t get involved with a camp parent. It seems like a recipe for disaster. But there’s no shame in admitting that Lucas Ripley is incredibly attractive. 

“I think we’ve got it,” he says skeptically.

Vic smiles again. “If you have any questions, just ask anyone with a coordinator or new family liaison badge. I’m sure they’d be happy to answer whatever questions you have.” 

“Thank you,” he says, and he’s smiles. 

He’s really attractive when he smiles, Vic realizes. 

_Camp. Parent._ Vic’s brain reminds her. 

Vic smiles, pushing her thoughts to the back of her brain. “Have fun settling in,” she says. “And I hope I’ll see you guys at opening ceremonies.” 

Lucas smiles at her again, and Vic maybe melts a little. But he’s a camp parent, and Vic does not get involved with people from camp.

-X-

“Glad to see you got settled in,” a voice says. 

Lucas looks up to see Victoria walking. She’s holding the hand of a toddler. 

He nods. “Yup, we made it to the hotel and managed to find our way back without getting lost, so I’m considering that a success.” 

Victoria grins. “I’m glad to hear that,” she says. 

“And who is this little guy?” Lucas asks. 

“This is my son Leo,” Victoria replies. 

“Hi!” Leo says brightly, his face breaking out into a grin. “I’m this many!” He holds up three fingers. He’s a cute kid, Lucas notes. He looks like his mom, although his complexion is darker, and his hair is curly but cropped close to his head. 

“That’s cool, bud,” Lucas says. 

“Well, opening ceremonies are about to start,”  
Victoria says. “And I have to figure out where my volunteers are and also find out where this little guy’s grandma is. But I just wanted to see if you two had gotten settled in.” 

“I really appreciate it,” Lucas says, shaking her hand holding her gaze. 

Victoria returns his gaze.

Lucas isn’t sure how long they stand like that, probably only seconds, but their concentration is altered when something clatters to the ground. 

“Sorry!” Imani says, bending down to pick up her water bottle that had fallen. 

Victoria and Lucas quickly drop hands. 

“I should, probably, uh, go now,” Victoria says. “Because I have things to, uh, coordinate.” 

“Right,” Lucas says quickly, awkwardly. “Coordinating things is important.” 

“Enjoy the ceremonies,” Victoria says. 

“We will,” Lucas says, smiling as Victoria walks away. 

“She’s pretty,” Imani whispers. 

Lucas chuckles, but doesn’t respond. “Let’s find our seats,” he says instead. 

-X-

Leo is staring at Vic when she opens her eyes. 

His eyes are a light brown, near reflective of Vic’s own eyes, but mostly, Leo’s eyes, their shape at least, are Kaleb’s. 

“Good morning,” Vic says brightly, blinking the sleep from her eyes. 

“Hi, Mama,” Leo answers. 

“You ready for today?” Vic asks. 

Leo nods. 

“It’s the first day of camp!” Vic says. 

Leo’s face lights up. It’s moments like these, right here, right now, that perplex Vic most about being a parent. Leo has met his dad exactly once, when he was a few weeks old, and yet, the face he’s making right now, eyes wide with excitement, is 100% Kaleb. It’s crazy, Vic thinks, the role that nature can play in a child’s development. 

“Let’s get ready!” Vic tells Leo. 

Leo nods quickly, and he scrambles off the bed. 

They make quick work of getting dressed. Leo is excited to wear his camp shirt and he tugs on his pants with ease. 

Vic moves to help him with his socks and shoes. 

“Do it myself!” Leo says emphatically, and Vic obliges. She’s getting used to the fact that her kid is a toddler. 

Vic’s phone pings, and she checks it. 

**Kaleb** : Have fun at camp today! 

Vic wants to roll her eyes, but she knows that Kaleb is trying to be nice, extend an olive branch. For however awful of a dad he is, and always has been, he makes child support payments on time, and he sends toys for Christmas and birthdays. He was just, in his own words, not ready to be a dad, and Vic had tried to understand that. After all, Gabe’s death had rocked them both to their core, and Kaleb handled it the way he handles most things, by running. 

Vic sighs. 

“Say cheese,” she tells Leo. 

Leo beams, halfway through putting on his shoes. (On the wrong feet, no less). 

Vic snaps the photo and texts it back to Kaleb. 

**Vic** : Someone is excited. 

**Kaleb** : Cute!

There’s more that Vic wants to say, but it’s been three years since Kaleb has even seen Leo; it’s safe to say that no amount of pictures are going to entice him to come back. How Kaleb was able to walk away, Vic has no idea, but she’s been doing it on her own for three years, and the urge, the want for Kaleb to come back, to come home, has all but disappeared. 

Vic tugs on her own shirt and grabs her name badge. 

“Ready?” Leo asks. 

“Ready!” Vic responds. She grins. She’s excited for camp, and dealing with her emotions about Kaleb can wait. 

Vic grabs her son’s hand, and the two of them walk out the door. 

-X- 

“Remember,” Lucas says. “If your leg starts to hurt, tell your counselor and he’ll-“ 

“Let me get in the wagon,” Imani finishes Lucas's sentence. “I know what to do, Dad,” she grumbles. “I’ll be okay. You have fun at adult camp, and I’ll make sure I tell my counselor if my leg hurts.” 

Lucas smiles at his daughter. “I just wanted to check,” he says. 

“I’ll be okay,” Imani says. “I pinky-swear.” 

They’re arriving at the field now, and Lucas peers around for a group of kids with the same color shirt as Imani. 

He finds them pretty easily, the teal color standing out in the field. 

Imani is practically vibrating with excitement. 

The two of them make their way to Imani’s lead counselor, who Lucas remembers is Victoria Hughes’s brother. 

“Good morning,” the counselor, Isaiah Hughes, says. 

“Good morning,” Imani responds. 

“What’s your name?” Isaiah asks. 

“Imani,” Lucas’s daughter answers. “And this is my dad.” 

Lucas waves awkwardly. 

“Alright, Imani, it’s nice to meet you,” Isaiah says with a wide grin. 

“Nice to meet you too,” Imani says. 

“Well, we are sitting in a circle and we’ll introduce ourselves when everyone else gets here.” Isaiah points to where a handful of other kids are sitting in a circle. 

Isaiah hands Lucas a clipboard. “You just need to initial here for drop off, and then we’re done,” Isaiah says. 

Lucas nods. “I put this in her paperwork, but sometimes she doesn’t like to take a break, even when her leg hurts, so if you could kinda keep an eye on her.” 

“Absolutely,” Isaiah says quickly. “The kids tend to get pretty excited, so we always try to intersperse some breaks. Camp’s a marathon, not a sprint.” 

Lucas smiles warmly as he hands the clipboard back to Isaiah. 

He’s only been at camp for less than 24 hours, but he’s got a really good feeling about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References/Research from this chapter 
> 
> Websites:  
> Heritage Camps for Adoptive Families (website)  
> Holt Adoptee Camp (website)  
> PACT Family Camp (website) 
> 
> Articles:  
> Finding Adoption Camp in Adulthood by Lauren Fishbein 
> 
> Hashtags:  
> #FamiliesLikeMine 
> 
> Academic Articles:  
> N/A 
> 
> Books:  
> N/A 
> 
> Documentaries or Other Media:  
> Heritage Camps for Adoptive Families: Empowered and Connected (YouTube) 
> 
> I imagine that Imani is played by Faithe Herman (from This Is Us). I still don’t have a child actor in mind for Leo. 
> 
> Please comment. 
> 
> Also, I pinky promise that there will be PLENTY of other station 19 characters in chapter 2. And without spoiling anything, hands down, the backstory I gave Jack is my absolute favorite. (But Maya’s and Travis’s are cool too.) 
> 
> We will also get some more backstory on our very own Lucas and Vic, so have no fear.


	2. In Which It Is the Second Day of Camp...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so pleasantly surprised by the response to the first chapter. Thank you for all of your lovely comments! 
> 
> This chapter was difficult for me to write, as I wasn't sure how to proceed. It isn't my favorite, but it's there. I tried to make the dialogue feel as natural as possible. But I wrote and rewrote this chapter like 3 times. I was hard to make things work. 
> 
> Warnings for references to a depiction of incidence of racism and also incidences of children being called the N-slur (all experiences have taken place in the past).
> 
> Also, Jack gets a whole part dedicated to his backstory because he's my fav. But I promise there will be more backstory.

“So you two are brothers?” Marcus asks, eyeing Jack and Dean. 

Jack nods. 

“Then how come Dean’s name tag doesn’t say his birth country like yours does?” Amos asks. 

Dean’s name tag reads, Seattle, WA whereas Jack’s name tag says United States. It’s the camps way of helping adopted people identify each other. Jack had the option of putting his hometown, but he preferred his adoptee name tag. 

“Because Dean’s not adopted,” Jack explains. 

This gets the attention of several of his other high schoolers, many of whom were not focused on the small group activity. 

“How are you adopted but Dean’s not?” Asks another student, Riley. 

“Because Dean is our parent’s biological kid,” Jack replies simply. 

At that, the kids erupt. 

“So your parents are black?” Marcus asks. 

Jack nods. 

“Woah,” says Esther. “That’s so cool!” 

“But how?” Amos asks. 

“I’ll tell you guys about my adoption if you guys promise to be respectful and behave,” Jack offers. It’s an easy trade off. He’s used to telling his story, and it’ll get them a day of relative peace (although there is never peace, not when you’re working with high schoolers.) 

All eyes are on him. 

“So,” Jack begins. “I was in foster care for 12 years. From the time I was born until I turned 11, I was in a lot of different homes. I was a pretty good kid, but I had some behavioral issues, so I ended up moving a lot. When I was 11, I went to a new foster home, and I started a new school. On my first day, I got in a fight with Dean, and we both got detention. The principal made us work together to pick up the trash on the bleachers. Once we finished, Dean invited me over his house for cookies. And after that, I was over his house almost everyday. My foster parents were actually pretty nice, but I’m sure they were pleased that I was out of their hair for a few hours everyday. I ended up getting pretty close to Dean’s parents and his sister, and I was there for homework and family dinners and pretty much everything but bedtime. But, after about a year, my current set of foster parents had to move for their job, and the only other long term placement was in a different county. I was pretty crushed. What I didn’t know was that Dean’s parents had already started taking classes to become certified foster parents. They wanted to be able to provide care for me if I was ever in need. Two weeks later, I moved in with my family. And a few months later, they started the process to adopt me.” 

The kids are all staring at Jack, enraptured, as he finishes his story. (He’s left some parts out, but the kids don’t need to know the gritty details about how hard his case worker fought _against_ his adoption, or how they were genuinely concerned that the family court judge wasn’t going to approve it.) 

“Wow,” Arianna says. “I didn’t even know that people could do that.”

“Is it weird?” Amos asks. 

“Not to me,” Jack says. “My family is just my family. I mean, we got weird looks from strangers. And I got a very weird response from some of my friends whenever I would say, ‘My mom is a Nigerian immigrant,’ or something like that, but I love my parents and my sister.” 

Dean gives Jack a pointed look.

“And my brother,” Jack adds, laughing. 

Dean rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning too. 

-X-

“Okay, don’t get me wrong,” Travis says. “My middle schoolers are cool and all but some of them are just...” he trails off then flops on the couch, clearly already tired. 

“What happened?” Vic asks. She’s only half paying attention. She’s on her phone trying to coordinate volunteers for some of the afternoon workshops, but she’s tired and isn’t in the mood for eating lunch with the entire group. Not after dealing with a very emotional workshop with the high schoolers. 

“They have the _worst_ attitude,” Travis huffs out. 

“At least you don’t have high school,” Dean replies. “Some of those kids, man.” Dean shakes his head. “Although,” Dean looks at Vic. “Your sister was probably one of our best behaved kids.” 

Vic laughs. “That’s certainly saying something.” (Because Cassie can be very, very ornery when she wants to be.) 

“Although I think Dean and I broke our kids’ brains this morning,” Jack says with a chuckle. 

“How?” Asks Travis, lifting his head from the couch. 

“We explained that we were brothers, but that Jack was the adopted one,” Dean says. 

“And then they were like, ‘so you’re white, but your parents are black?’” Jack adds. “And they were completely shook. One of them asked me to explain it to them, so I talked about it.” 

“And then they were quiet for forty blissful minutes afterward,” Dean finishes, sighing contentedly.

“Can you come talk to my middle schoolers?” Travis begs. 

Dean and Jack both laugh. 

“That explains why your kids were all quiet and behaving for my workshop,” Vic pipes up, chuckling. 

“I’m actually really glad about how that worked out,” Jack says. “They were actually willing to talk about some pretty hard shit.”

“My kids actually made me tear up,” Dean says. 

Vic almost cried too. It took a lot out of her not to break down and cry while she listened to her high schoolers talk about experiences that reflected her own. 

“How are your kids, Maya?” Jack asks. 

He turns to his girlfriend, who had just entered the room and settled on the couch next to Jack.

(Vic is grateful for the subject change, because she doesn’t want to rehash the details of the high school workshop, at least not right now, when they’ve got an afternoon of the first day of camp still left to go.) 

“My kids are fine. Some of them are a little… spirited,” Maya says in response to Jack’s question. “It’s all of the walking that is killing me, and there is so much chasing involved.” Maya squeezes both of her upper legs, as if to illustrate her point. “I cannot wait to take my legs off when today is over. I don’t think I’ve been this tired in ages.”

“You literally run six miles a day,” Jack says with a knowing grin. 

“Kids are worse,” Travis grumbles. “So. Much. Worse.” 

“So I take it you’re not doing Russia camp, then?” Vic asks Maya. She’s teasing, mostly. Maya has done Russia camp every single summer since 2013 except for 2016. 

“Of course I’m doing Russia camp,” Maya replies. “And I’m dragging Jack with me.” 

“Wait, what?” Jack asks. 

Maya beams at Jack. 

“Guess I’m doing Russia camp,” he relents. 

Vic snorts. (Jack is whipped.) 

“What other camps are you doing, Vic?” Travis asks. 

“Well, I’m a presenter for Latin, Korea camp, so I’ll be at those,” Vic replies. “Although China and Korea run concurrently so it’s on the same weekend. Isaiah will be at all of them, though.” 

“All of them?” Several people ask at once. 

“He’s here for the whole summer doing an internship, and the law office he works for is only open Monday through Wednesday, so he decided to be a counselor for every single camp,” Vic explains. 

“He’s gonna be dead by the time camp ends,” Travis says. “I’ve done African/Caribbean camp and Korea camp for two summers and two camps is enough for me. But all eight? I couldn’t make it.” 

“Neither could I,” Vic says. “This is my first year as a coordinator and I’m already extremely stressed. Speaking of which,” Vic says as she stands. “I have to go make sure there’s parent volunteers for the next round of activities.” 

“Have fun,” Travis says. 

“I will,” Vic replies. “See you guys later.” 

-X-

Vic doesn’t hate this workshop. She hates facilitating it. 

She gets it, knows that parents need a place to process and share, but Vic’s not a big fan of feelings. (She can handle the high schoolers, because it’s what she needed as a kid, but dealing with emotionally vulnerable adults is an entirely different ball game.) 

Nonetheless, the volunteer social worker who was supposed to help facilitate had a flat tire, which meant that she was going to miss the first section of this workshop. The leader, a psychologist whose name Vic couldn’t remember, said that the workshop worked best with four people helping to facilitate small group discussion.

(“You don’t even have to say anything, Victoria,” the psychologist had said, reading Vic’s name tag as if they were old friends. “There’s a cheat sheet. All you have to do is ask the questions, and the parents will do all the talking and sharing.” 

Vic chose not to mention that that was precisely the problem. She could deal with her own feelings just fine. It was everyone else’s feelings and stress that made her feel crappy.) 

Vic wanted the parents to have a good experience, to learn how to process their own feelings and help their kids. Plus, Vic could handle asking questions and dealing with feelings. She wasn’t going to ask her fellow coordinator to help facilitate, given that Renee really hated the whole feelings conversation. 

All that said, Vic isn’t exactly happy to be sitting at one of the tables in the room as the parents filter in. 

She sends a quick text to her co-coordinator. 

**Vic:** How are things looking for volunteers for the kids workshops? I’m stuck at Courageous Conversations because our volunteer had car trouble. 

Renee’s reply is near instant. 

**Renee:** : So far, so good. *knocks on wood* 

Vic chuckles. Then, she pockets her phone and returns her attention to the parents now streaming in. 

There are several more interesting workshops going on at the same time. Plus, this isn’t the only Courageous Conversations workshop going on. There will be two more tomorrow. 

Vic finds herself pleasantly surprised to see Lucas Ripley walking through the door. 

She knows from her conversation with Isaiah that his daughter has settled in very well, and she’s already made good friends with some of the kids in her group, which is nice. It’s usually easy to make friends at camp, especially when almost everyone else there is living your reality, but sometimes there are outliers. Vic is glad to know that Imani is not one of them. 

Lucas ends up sitting at her table, and he waves with two fingers as he sits. Vic waves back, suddenly feeling a bit less annoyed at being asked to help at this workshop. 

It doesn’t take long for the rest of the table to fill, and the workshop begins. The introduction is brief, since the majority of the workshop is about having difficult conversations and processing difficult experiences. 

Vic stares at the sheet of open-ended questions. She’s actually dreading it less than she anticipated. 

Getting through the questions on the sheet is relatively easy. And the head facilitator moves from group to group, asking new and more in depth questions and prompting conversations. 

Vic notices that Lucas is observing and listening more than he speaks, but he does offer up advice and support at times. 

The workshop is winding to a close, and one of the final prompts is asking the parents to share when they realized how unprepared they were for parenting a child of color. Most of the parents mention the first time that their child was called the N-word. 

Lucas ends up being the last in their group to speak. He looks nervous, and Vic wants to tell him that he doesn’t _have_ to speak up. 

But he clears his throat, smiles, and begins to speak.

-X-

_Imani was only 16 months old when Lucas became her dad. He was 27, a newly promoted captain, and now a single dad to his dead best friend’s newly disabled toddler. It was a lot for anyone to take in, suddenly becoming a parent with no idea what to do, but the racial aspect of it had been something that he had been wholly unprepared for._

_Lucas hadn’t been naive enough to believe that racism didn’t exist anymore, but he had been naive enough to believe that the only racists were the people in the southern United States who drove around with confederate flags. He hadn’t expected that it still existed kn a city like Seattle, where diversity was its strength, so he had been completely unprepared for it when it first happened._

_He had had a lapse in care. Imani was sick and couldn’t go to daycare and her babysitter wason vacation and his sister had class, and Lucas had to go into work. It was a paperwork day, because both their trucks and aid car were out for routine maintenance, so Lucas had figured that it wouldn’t hurt to bring Imani to work with him._

_He had only had Imani for six months at that point, and she had just gotten fitted for a prosthetic, which meant that she was toddling everywhere, and falling lots._

_Lucas had been doing paperwork at the front desk when it happened. Imani had toddled up to one of Lucas subordinates, Davidson, and smiled toothily at him._

_David smiled back, and then he turned to Lucas and delivered his remark._

_“It’s really good that you adopted her,” Davidson had said. “She probably won’t grow up ghetto like _other_ black kids.” _

_Lucas had felt his blood run hot._

_“Excuse me,” he said curtly._

_Davidson tried to backtrack. “I mean, you’re raising her right, so she probably won’t grow up to be like one of _those_ black people, you know?” _

_“Get the hell out of my station, Davidson,” Lucas had replied._

_“I didn’t mean it like that,” Davidson said quickly. “Just that…”_

_“Stop,” Lucas held up a hand. “Get the hell out. You’re suspended, pending an HR investigation.”_

_Davidson rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said, and then he turned on his heel and exited, stomping as he did so._

_Lucas walked over and picked up Imani._

_“Daddy,” Imani cooed brightly._

_Lucas grinned. Then, he settled in his desk and realized that he was woefully unprepared for this._

-X- 

Lucas finishes relaying his story to the group of parents around him. 

“Wow,” a woman, whose name tag reads Elaine, says. “I think a lot of us have been through something similar, and it’s that first encounter that always shocks us. But, I guess, it’s different for a lot of us, because we made an intentional decision to create families this way.” 

“I can kinda understand how you felt, Lucas,” a man, whose name reads Xavier, says. “I got custody of my sister kids after she passed away, so I was kinda thrown into everything while I was still grieving.” He pauses. “I love my kids,” he adds quickly. “But it was overwhelming at first.” 

“I don’t think it’s gotten less overwhelming,” says another parent, Layla. “I mean, my oldest is seventeen and we’ve had him since birth and I was still completely overwhelmed when he got called the N-word at Walmart.” 

“I didn’t think I would ever have to clarify that certain instances were the _first_ time my child got called the N-word,” Elaine adds. “I mean, I’ve grown a lot in my understanding of race and racism since that happened, but… it’s still hard.”

“And I know that if it’s exhausting for me,” Xavier says. “Then it is so much worse for my kids, and that sucks. And a lot of my friend group is white parents with white kids, and they just don’t get it. I’m glad that you guys do.” 

“Me too,” Layla agrees. 

“I picked Imani up for lunch, and she was just glowing with everything that had happened,” Lucas says. “She said it felt nice to be surrounded by people that got it. And I completely understand, because I literally knew two people when I came here, and I didn’t know them well. But I don’t think that I’ve ever felt in place somewhere so quickly. And I think that’s because we understand each other, we get each other, we know each other’s struggles. And that’s why being here is so important, for us, and for our kids. But having this solidarity and shared experience means something. We’re not strangers, we’re not just people at camp together, we’re more than that. We’re-” 

“Family,” Elaine says. 

And Lucas was going for something a little less cliche than that, but Elaine was right. In Seattle, he only knew a handful of other families who shared his experiences, and the camaraderie had been near instant. He considered those families amongst his closest friends. And Imani had taken to referring to the kids as her cousins, even if they weren’t actually cousins. Lucas smiles. 

“Family,” he agrees. 

-X-

“Did you like the workshop?” Vic asks Lucas as he’s packing up his stuff. Most of the other parents have already left, on their way to get their kids from the field. 

Lucas nods. “It was really nice to just talk and to be with people that understood.” He finishes packing his bag and h

“I really expected to hate this workshop, but I liked what you had to say,” Vic says. 

Lucas furrows his eyebrows. “Thank you?” He says. “I think…”

“No, no, no,” Vic says quickly. “I mean, I just, I wasn’t expecting to be in this workshop, but my parent volunteer disappeared and I just… I didn’t really want to be in here, but, I, uh that about what you said. It was a little depressing but in a good way.” 

“Um, okay,” Lucas says, sounding even more perplexed. 

“God no,” Vic says, and she can feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “Sorry. I mean, you were great.” She’s smiling and it’s awkward and she kinda wants the floor to open up and swallow her whole. “What you said, what you shared, it was really nice.” 

“Thank you,” he says, meeting her gaze. 

_His eyes are so blue,_ Vic’s brain notes traitorously. 

They hold their gaze for just a moment until Vic’s phone buzzes. 

“We should probably go get our kids,” Vic says, before she realizes how it sounds. “We should probably go get the kids from the field.” She chuckles awkwardly. 

“Good idea,” Lucas agrees. 

They’re mostly quiet as he and Vic walk toward the field. 

(Vic would walk with any parent after a workshop. This means nothing. At least, that’s what she tells herself. Lucas Ripley is not different from the other parents or camp attendees.) 

“So,” Lucas says. “What are you up to tonight?” 

Vic pauses and tries to remember exactly what she, Hannah, and Gabby were planning on doing. Lucas must take her hesitation for something else, because he immediately speaks up again. 

“Oh my god,” Lucas says, his jaw dropping. “I didn’t mean for that to sound like I was trying to ask you out or something. I just meant to ask because I know some families hang out after camp and…” Lucas trails off, looking sheepish. He’s blushing so hard that his ears are bright red. 

“It’s fine,” Vic reassures him. (She hadn’t actually thought of that until he mentioned it, but now she knows she won’t be able to stop thinking about that.) “My sisters actually just got in for the panel we’re doing together tomorrow, and they wanted to go to this park or something, so that’s where we’re headed.” 

“That sounds like fun!” Lucas says. “Imani made some friends, so apparently we’re going to the science museum. They’re open late on Fridays.” 

“The science museum here is amazing,” Vic says brightly. “She’s in for a treat, especially if she loves chemistry or physics.” 

“Math and science is absolutely Imani’s thing,” Lucas says, beaming. “She’s honestly probably better at math than I am. Her mother was a mathematical genius, though. She went to MIT when she was sixteen. I’m pretty sure Imani takes after her.” 

Vic smiles at Lucas. It’s refreshing to hear parents talk about their kids birth parents so casually. Most parents save those conversations for privacy, which puts an air of secrecy around the whole topic, but VIc supposes things are different for Lucas. After all, he _knew_ Imani’s birth parents. They were his closest friends. 

They’ve arrived at the field, which is a mass of kids in color coordinated t-shirts who are playing excitedly which each other. 

Vic spots Leo, standing on the other side of the field with his group. He’s chatting animatedly with one of his fellow campers and their counselor. 

“Well,” Vic says. “Enjoy the science museum. It’s really nice.”

“Thank you,” Lucas says. “And I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning.” 

Vic blinks. 

“I volunteered to help with set up tomorrow,” Lucas explains quickly. 

Vic makes a mental note to get a better handle on remembering the schedule of parent volunteers. Not that she needs to have every name memorized. It’s just, something about Lucas. 

It takes Vic a moment to remember where exactly Lucas is set up, but she does. He’ll be in the village with Tyler Allen. 

“Are you bringing Imani?” Vic asks. They have several single parents at camp, and it’s difficult to schedule their mandatory volunteering, which is why they can bring their kids if necessary. 

“Probably,” Lucas replies. “Is that okay?” 

Vic nods. “That’s perfectly fine.” She eyes Leo’s group and accidentally makes eye contact with Leo. She’s got about thirty seconds before Leo leaves his group and comes sprinting across the field. She gives one last look at Lucas. “See you tomorrow,” she says.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References/Research from this chapter
> 
> Websites:  
> N/A
> 
> Articles:  
> The encounter that Lucas has with Davidson is taken directly from “After I Adopted Two Black Babies, I Realized My Church Was Full of Racists” by Meg St-Esprit
> 
> Some of Jack’s story is pulled from “I’m Black. My Son Is White. Here’s How People Treat Us.” by Adrienne Parrott.
> 
> Academic References:  
> N/A
> 
> Books:  
> N/A
> 
> Documentaries or Other Media:  
> Some of the dialogue the parents had was taken from Black, White, and Us which is a documentary on transracial adoption that I highly recommend. (It’s free if you have Amazon Prime!)
> 
> Personal Experience:  
> My younger foster brother is white and my family is black. That’s why Jack’s story is high key my favorite.


	3. In Which There Is Volunteering and Hard Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter too, tbh. I like parts of it, but I hate other parts of it. This was really difficult to write and it was sorta like pulling teeth. This chapter is slightly filler, but there are some good bits of it. This is unbetaed so if you find any glaring mistakes or continuity issues please, please let me know.

“Lion, where are your shoes?” Vic asks. 

“I dunno,” Leo says, shrugging, his bright brown eyes boring into Vic’s. He’s grinning mischievously, which means he probably does know where his shoes are. 

“Leo,” Vic says firmly. “I asked you not to take your shoes off. Your Pop Pop is coming in five minutes so you can go get breakfast with him and Grandma. You need to have shoes on. Please look for them.”

Leo grins and then begins to traipse the room in his bare feet. And honestly, Vic thinks, forget the terrible twos, having a threenager is so much worse. 

Vic’s phone buzzes. 

**Renee:** Tyler Allen just emailed me and said he can’t make it to his volunteering slot because his kid woke up vomiting and he and his wife are taking him to urgent care. 

“Shit,” Vic says quietly. Although, it’s not quietly enough because Leo says, “Ooooo, mommy said a bad word.” 

“Mommy said a grown up word,” Vic replies. 

Leo eyes her skeptically, but he returns to “looking” for his shoes. 

**Vic:** I’ll cover the village because I’m already in here. Sound good? 

**Renee:** Perfect! I might have to cover some of the classrooms because some of the parent volunteers haven’t shown up. 

**Vic** : If Heather asks me to coordinate next year, remind me to say no. 

**Renee:** Same girl, same 

Vic pockets her phone and turns her attention back to Leo, who still hasn’t found his shoes. 

“Leo, c’mon, where’s the last place you had your shoes?” She asks.

The door to the village opens. 

“Are these anyone’s shoes?” A voice asks. It’s Lucas Ripley. “I found them outside by the door.” 

“My shoes!” Leo cheers. He rushes over to Lucas and Lucas hands the shoes to Leo. 

“What do you say to Mr. Lucas?” Vic asks. 

“Thank you,” Leo says in a singsong voice. 

Leo sits on the ground and begins to put his shoes on. 

“Thank you,” Vic says. 

“No problem,” Lucas replies. “So, what did you need me to do?’ 

“Well, we’re just setting up a few of the activities for the kids. Your co-volunteer didn’t show up, so it’ll be me and you.” Vic pauses. “Where’s Imani?” 

“She wanted to go to Denver Biscuit Company with the Wilsons,” Lucas replies.

“That’s good,” Vic says. “I’m glad she made some friends at camp.”

“And the Wilsons don’t live too far from us, actually,” Lucas continues. “I didn’t realize how many camp families are from Washington.” 

“The west and northwest has some of the highest rates of transracial adoption in the country,” Vic supplies. “Most of the families come from Washington, Utah, here in Colorado, and Oregon.” 

The door opens again. 

“Pop Pop!” Leo shouts, running toward the door. 

“Hey Squash,” Dad says, catching Leo in his arms. “How are you doing?” 

“I’m good! Camp is so much fun!” Leo cheers. 

Dad beams. “You ready for breakfast?” He asks. 

Leo nods. 

“He’s going to try to convince you to let him have chocolate milk,” Vic tells Dad. “We haven’t gotten the results of his allergy panel. So, no milk.” 

Dad nods seriously. He pauses. “Nicole is coming to breakfast with us. Is that okay?” 

Vic purses her lips. 

Dad isn’t asking so much as he is telling her, mainly because she knows that she’s not going to say anything, not in front of Leo. 

“That’s fine,” Vic says carefully. 

She turns to Leo, who is nestled comfortably in Dad’s arms. “I’ll see you later, Lion,” she says. 

“Bye mommy,” Leo says. He smiles. 

At that, dad and Leo walk out the door. 

Vic huffs, her mood soured. 

“So, we need to set up the tent for the kids,” Vic explains. “And we need to re-staple parts of the bulletin board in the airport.” 

Lucas nods. “I can do the tent,” he says. 

“Sounds good,” Vic says, 

She grabs the stapler and walks over to the bulletin board. Her concentration is shot, and it takes twice as long for her to manage to get the staplers into the damn gun. 

“Are you okay?” Lucas asks after Vic has missed a staple for the third time. The paper falls noisily to the ground. 

“I’m fine,” Vic snaps. 

Lucas frowns, his blue eyes boring into hers. 

“I’m sorry,” Vic says genuinely. “ It’s just... my parents invited my kid’s paternal adoptive grandmother to breakfast with my kid without telling me. And my Dad knows I won’t say no because I have a rule about saying things about my kid’s paternal family in front of Leo. And I really don’t want my kid seeing Nicole because she likes to talk shit about Kaleb even though she’s not a great parent herself. And I am totally rambling and airing my dirty laundry to you even though we just met and... SHIT!” Vic shouts as she staples her finger. 

Vic forms her hand into a ball, determined not to get any blood on the tent. 

“Is there a first aid kid in here?” Lucas adds. 

Vic nods. “Check in the emergency bag by the door.” 

Lucas grabs the first aid kit and walks over to Vic. 

“I can clean myself up,” Vic says. 

“Let me,” Lucas says. “I’m a certified EMT.” 

Vic shows Lucas her hand and makes a mental note to ask Jack about Lucas. 

Lucas’s touch is gentle and Vic has to force herself to think of anything else: like the fact that camp starts in an hour and they still have so much set up to do, or that parent volunteers seem to be dropping left and right, or that Vic had promised herself that she wasn’t going to get involved with anyone from camp. 

“It’s a superficial wound,” Lucas says as he gently cleans it with an alcohol wipe. 

It stings. 

He glances at the band-aids in the kit. 

“These are really cool,” Lucas says. “I didn’t know they made band-aids like these.” 

“Tru-color was actually created by a transracial adoptive family,” Vic says as Lucas selects a band-aid that matches Vic’s skin tone. “He noticed that _flesh-colored_ band-aids really only included white people, and he wanted his sons to have band-aids that matched their skin color. You had to special order them at first, but now you can find them at places like Target.” 

“I had no idea these existed,” Lucas says as he wraps Vic’s finger. 

“My sister was the one who actually found them,” Vic says. “She teaches a class for adoptive parents, and she uses the concept of ‘flesh-colored’ band-aids as an example of unconscious privilege.” 

Lucas pauses. “I hadn’t even considered that,” he says, sounding awed. 

Vic smiles at him as he finished securing the band-aid. 

“There you go,” he says. 

“I’m sorry for venting to you,” Vic apologizes. “That was really unprofessional of me.” 

“It’s fine,” Lucas says. “Being a single parent is hard. Sometimes we need to vent.” 

Vic sighs. “It’s just complicated,” she says. 

They return to the tent. 

“Leo’s dad isn’t really in the picture, but I don’t like people saying bad things about him in front of Leo,” Vic explains. “Kaleb’s mom refuses to respect my wishes about that, so I don’t like Leo spending time with her when I’m not around. It just, again, it’s probably not the place or time for me to talk about it. It just pisses me off.” 

“That’s understandable,” Lucas says. 

Vic sighs and surveys the room. They still have a lot to do. “We should probably get back to work.” 

-X- 

He almost runs into Victoria because he’s not watching where he’s going. 

He’s trying to balance two plates of food because Imani is turning cartwheels in the grass with one of her new friends. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucas says, and then he looks up and sees that it’s Victoria. He beams, his body acting almost on its own accord. 

He notices that Victoria has a baby wrap around her, and Leo is sleeping peacefully with his head resting close to Victoria’s shoulder. 

“Someone’s tired,” Lucas says. 

Victoria laughs lightly. “Camp has finally caught up with him. He’s up two hours earlier than usual, and he’s been exhausted. My mom picked him up and got him to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before he conked out, but I’ll probably stick this in the fridge for him, though. He loves Ethiopian food.”

“I haven’t had any,” Lucas admits. “But I’m excited to try. Where are you sitting?” He asks. 

There are a handful of people sitting on picnic tables around the field, but most of the families have settled on blankets in the grass. 

“I’m sitting over there,” Vic replies, pointing at a red blanket on the other side of the field. “My sister was supposed to eat with me but apparently the vegan option has coconuts in it, and she’s allergic, so she went to go find some different food to eat.” 

Lucas can very hide the surge of excitement that wells up inside of him. Vic’s picnic blanket is located next to his. 

Lucas knows he has a crush, and it feels dumb. Victoria is at least ten years younger than him, and she works at Imani’s camp. It wouldn’t work out. Still, he feels like a middle schooler who just got the opportunity to sit next to his crush while on a field trip. 

“I’m actually on the blue blanket next to yours,” Lucas says. 

Victoria smiles at him, and Lucas maybe melts a little. 

-X- 

"What are your plans for this evening?" Lucas asks once they’re by themselves on the blankets. Imani has skipped off when two other girls from her group, and Leo is still knocked out on the blanket. 

"Probably stretching when I get back to the hotel," Vic replies. "I always ask my dancers to take at least one day to do some cardio and stretch while on vacation, so I figure that I should do the same." 

"What dance do you teach?" Lucas asks. 

Vic chuckles lightly. "Thanks for not assuming," she says. "I teach Broadway jazz, Broadway song and dance, and then a combined class for singing, dancing, and acting, as well as a stretch and warm up class." 

"That sounds interesting," Lucas says. 

"What do you do for a living?" Vic asks. 

"I work in the Seattle Fire Department," Lucas replies. "I'm a battalion chief, so there's a lot less active fire fighting going on for me, which is definitely safer. And I don't work as many 24 hour shifts, so that works in my favor as well, which means I get to spend more time home with Imani." 

"That’s nice,” Vic says. “How are you liking camp so far?" She asks. 

"It's been intense," Lucas answers. "And maybe a little bit overwhelming, but I feel like I learned a lot, and the documentary we saw this morning was really good. Imani really loves camp too. And she really likes both of her counselors, but especially Isaiah. She said he let the kids paint his nails in the hair and skin care workshop the kids had.” 

“Sounds like Isaiah,” Vic says with a genuine laugh. Her brother really likes kids, and he’s really good with them. 

“But it’s honestly been a great start to our summer,” Lucas continues. 

“Camp used to be my favorite part of the summer,” Vic says. “We usually went to four of the culture camps, so we would just stay in Colorado for the first part of the summer and go exploring.” 

“Colorado is gorgeous,” Lucas says. “Imani and I visited a few years back and it was a really great experience. I wish we could’ve stayed longer, but I have work Monday morning that I couldn’t get out of. It was nice to have this little vacation.” 

Vic nods her agreement. “I took the week off,” she says. “We went to see the Rocky Mountains and did a couple of things around Denver. Leo really enjoyed it.” She gestures to her still sleeping son. 

“I do miss Seattle, though,” Lucas says. “The altitude is getting to me just a bit.” 

“It happens to the best of us,” Vic agrees. “Especially considering that Seattle is at or slightly above sea level.” 

“I can’t believe you live in Seattle,” Lucas says. “It’s a small world.” 

“That, it is,” Vic agrees. 

“We should do something,” Lucas says quickly. “When we’re back in Seattle. If you want, I mean I just, I…” Lucas’s cheeks go bright red, and Vic knows that she’s also blushing.

“We should,” Vic agrees. “I know a place that makes some really great Ethiopian food.”

“Sounds good,” Lucas says. 

“Sounds good,” Vic agrees. She smiles. She promised herself that she wouldn;t get involved with anyone from camp, but it doesn’t mean that she can’t make friends. And that’s all that she’s going to let Lucas Ripley be: a friend.

-X- 

Isaiah doesn’t play favorites when he does camp. If he did play favorites, however, he wouldn’t make it obvious. 

And, if he did play favorites, Imani Ripley Sullivan would be one of them. She’s bright, energetic, and kind, and she’s easily one of the best behaved kids in Isaiah’s group, which is t actually saying all that much, given that she doesn’t have an attitude, hasn’t said a curse word, and hasn’t kicked a fellow fourth grader. 

Isaiah’s standards for favorite kids are really low. 

Isaiah’s favorite part of camp is the art session. The kids get really into it, and the conversations get deep. 

Each session starts with discussions about big feelings, and how it’s possible to feel opposite feelings at the same time, and how sometimes kids have big feelings about their adoption. 

Today’s session involves coloring inside-outside boxes. The outside represents the stuff they show to everyone and the inside represents the things that they keep to themselves. 

Isaiahis putting some effort into his own box, but he’s also actively listening to some of the conversations the kids are having around them.” 

“Mr. Shay, when you were little, did you ever think about your first parents?” Imani asks. 

Isaiah pauses, considers how he can frame his answer. “Yes,” he replies, gently coloring in the red of his rainbow flag on the outside of his box. “I thought about them a lot.” 

“Did you ever ask your mom and dad about them?” Imani presses.

Isaiah pauses again. Then, he nods. “I would ask them sometimes.” 

“Did they feel sad when you asked?” Imani asks. 

Isaiah shakes his head. “My parents told me what they could about my mom. It didn’t make them feel sad.” 

“I want to ask my dad about my first parents,” Imani says. She looks down at her artwork. She’s working on the inside of her box. “But I don’t wanna make him feel sad.”

“Why do you think your dad would feel sad?” One of the facilitators asks. 

It’s a leading question, one that Isaiah wonders if Imani will answer. 

“My first Dad was my Dad’s best friend,” Imani answers. “I don’t want to make him feel sad.” Imani pauses, again, looks around, peers carefully out the window of the room. 

Isaiah understands immediately. 

“I don’t want to ask my dad about my first parents because I don’t want to make him feel like he’s not a good dad,” Imani blurts. “And he is a good dad. He’s the best!” 

And Isaiah understands that too. Mom has always told him that it’s okay to search, but it still feels like he’s betraying them, like he’s telling them that they weren’t good enough parents. And it isn’t that his parents weren’t good parents. It’s the fact that Isaiah just wants to know where he came from. He wants that pang to go away every time someone says he has a ‘natural’ pension for music, or that he was born to be a lawyer. 

Isaiah smiles at Imani, gently. “I know what you mean, kid,” he says. 

“I just wanna know what my first mom and dad were like,” she says. “I don’t remember because I was a baby when they died.” Imani’s eyes are starting to feel with tears. 

He understands this, feels it in his bones. 

“It’s okay to feel sad sometimes,” Isaiah says. He knows that the emotions around this are complex and messy. “I know that your dad loves you a lot, and I bet that he has big feelings too. Maybe you can ask him one day. I’m sure he’s got stories about your first parents that he would like to tell you. And it might make him feel sad, it might make both of you feel sad, and that’s okay.” 

Imani nods, wipes at her eyes.

“I know you don’t want to make your dad feel sad, kid,” Isaiah says. He pauses, trying to figure out how to phrase the next part in a kid friendly way. “Your Dad is a grown up,” he finally decides. “And grown-ups have more space to put their big feelings. And grown-ups also know how to handle their big feelings. Alright, kiddo. So it’s okay to ask questions. And sometimes, your dad might not know the answer.” 

Imani nods. “Okay,” she says lightly. She returns to coloring her box. 

“And Imani?” Isaiah says. 

“Yes?” Imani says. 

“I know sometimes you feel like you’re responsible for how your dad feels, but that’s not on you, kiddo. Remember that.”

-X-

It’s Vic’s second year doing this panel and she feels significantly less nervous than she did the first time that she did this panel. It probably helps that they had done the panel three times during that first year. 

She surprised, pleasantly so, to see Lucas in the audience. There are three workshops going on at the moment. Vic’s panel with her siblings, another round of courageous conversations, and a skin and hair care workshop. This workshop is actually surprisingly packed, which Vic figures is a good thing. From looking at the camp roster, Vic knows they have more multicultural families than usual at camp this year.

Vic waves at Lucas. 

“Who’s that?” Hannah asks in a low voice, leaning across Gabby to ask. 

“His name is Lucas,” Vic answers. “He’s a new parent this year.” 

“And you waved at him?” Hannah asks. 

“It’s a traditional form of greeting,” Vic replies cooly. 

Hannah eyes her skeptically. “So y’all are waving buddies,” she says. She grins, and returns to sit back in her chair.

Vic rolls her eyes and moves to say something in response. But the moderator begins introducing herself, and Vic settles back into her chair, wondering if there was indeed any significance behind her and Lucas’s interaction. 

-X-

 

"I can't believe today was the last full day of camp," Isaiah says, settling on the couch. 

They’re in the break room after camp, and Vic doesn’t want to move from the couch that she’s sitting on.

"One down, only seven to go," Travis teases. 

Isaiah chuckles then rolls his eyes. "We had our art session today, and things got really deep. I didn't cry this year, though." 

"I did," Zach admits. "First grade really got to me. I didn't even think they felt such complex emotions. But I guess I remember being in first grade and having intense emotions." 

"Can I second that, but with high school?" Jack says. "I've only ever done middle school and below, and holy hell it's nowhere near as complex as it is with them." 

"My middle schoolers made me cry too," Travis says. "Even though they were hellions earlier, they really seemed to get into our session, so that was really nice. Although I'm glad camp is over. And I'm really glad that Korea camp is the last camp of the summer so that I have a break." 

"Seconded," Dean agrees. “Not that I’m working another camp this summer.” He turns to Vic. "Your kid's nephew really made me want to strangle him." 

Vic bites the edge of her lip. "Samuel can be a bit much," she says. 

"And god forbid you try to tell Nicole anything," Isaiah adds. "No offense-" he turns to Vic. "But all of the Richardsen kids are absolutely awful. Seriously." 

Vic chuckles. "None taken, I didn't raise them." 

"Is it bad that I have favorites?" Travis asks, changing the subject slightly. 

"No," Jack says. "I absolutely have favorites. The trick is not to make it obvious." 

"Same," Zach says. "Riley is probably my favorite kid ever, but I didn't give her preferential treatment. I don't see anything wrong with it. Some kids are more well-behaved than others." 

"Imani Ripley-Sullivan is my favorite," Isaiah says. "She's really well-behaved and also very kind and compassionate, rare that you see that in a fourth grader." 

"Speaking of which," Jack says, turning to Vic. "What's with you and Lucas Ripley?" 

Vic chokes on her water. 

“Who’s Lucas Ripley?” Travis asks, clearly curious. 

Isaiah hums. “He’s the dad of one of my campers. Uh, Imani.” Isaiah pauses. “What _is_ with you and Lucas Ripley?” 

“Vic has a crush,” Jack teases. 

“I do not!” Vic says defensively. 

“So I didn’t see you two having a thirty minute conversation at lunch,” Jack teases. 

“I don’t blame Vic,” Isaiah says understandingly. “He’s kinda hot, and his eyes are gorgeous. He’d make pretty babies.” 

“He’s cute but let’s not go that far,” Vic says quickly. 

“So, you do have a crush,” Jack says.

“Maybe I do,” Vic says cryptically. “But it’s not like I can date him.” 

“Why not?” Travis asks. 

“He’s a camp parent,” Vic argues lamely. 

“That’s a shit excuse,” Isaiah says. “Camp is literally two days, and it’s not like your his kid’s counselor.” 

“He’s a really good guy,” Jack says. “And he’s an awesome parent.” 

Vic cocks her head. “Wait, how do you know Lucas?” 

“He’s my boss,” Jack answers with a shrug. 

“He lives in Seattle?” Isaiah and Travis say in unison. 

“It’s perfect,” Travis adds. “You could actually, like date him if you wanted to.” 

“I don’t even know if he likes me,” Vic counters, flushed.

“You have a crush,” Isaiah sings. 

“He likes you,” Jack adds. “That’s a fact. There were definitely heart eyes at lunch.” 

“It could’ve just been because that Ethiopian food was bomb as fuck,” Dean says, entering the room and flopping on the couch. “Don’t tell my mom, but it was better than her cooking.” 

“You’re not wrong,” Jack says. “I love Mom’s cooking, but that chicken was amazing.” 

“So, Lucas could’ve been just really feeling the chicken,” Vic says. “There’s nothing going on. Problem solved. Case closed.” 

“Oh, no,” Dean says quickly. “I saw you two. Homeboy is smitten with you.”

Vic groans. “I’m not gonna start dating a camp parent,” she says. 

“Who’s dating a camp parent?”Renee asks as she enters. 

“Vic,” Jack answers. 

“I’m not dating him!” Vic defends. 

“She has a crush,” Travis supplies. 

“I’m not getting involved with anyone from camp,” Vic says. “And I really don’t wanna bring someone into my kid’s life and have them leave.” 

“You have commitment issues,” Isaiah says. 

“For good reason,” Vic shoots back. 

“I’ll drink to that,” Jack agreed. 

Vic chuckles and then turns to glare at Isaiah. “And it’s not like you can say jack shit, Mr. Daddy Kink.” 

“Ooooooo,” says Jack in a low voice. 

Isaiah bites his lip. “So,” he says. “Like three months ago, I meant to send a text to my boyfriend, and I accidentally sent it to my Dad. And that, my friends, is why you shouldn’t have your boyfriend labeled Daddy if you have your Dad labeled Dad.” 

“What did your dad say?” Travis asks, amused. 

“Nothing, radio silence,” Isaiah answers. “We never addressed it.” 

“I think the worst part about all of this is that Isaiah changed Dad’s name to Matt instead of changing Eli’s name.” 

“Okay, but everyone call dad Matt,” Zach says. 

“True,” Vic agrees. “I changed his name in my phone after he told us he was voting for Trump.” 

“You dad voted for Trump?” Renee asks, eyes wide. 

“He didn’t actually,” Isaiah says. “He was gonna, and then us kids threatened to collectively disown him.” 

“Shit,” Travis says, drawing out the word. “I didn’t know that.”

“Who did he end up voting for?” Jack asks. 

“No one,” Zach says. “He decided not to vote.”

Vic shrugs. “Twenty-sixteen was a weird year in our house.” 

Twenty sixteen had been a weird year in the Hughes household, but that year had been pure hell for Vic. 

-X-

“Let’s talk about commitment issues,” Isaiah says to the group. 

It’s relatively small, just Vic, Zach, Isaiah, Travis, Jack and Renee. They don’t usually get a huge turnout for the adult adoptee programming that happens in the evening of the second day, and it probably has something to do with the fact that no one really wants to talk about their issues. There was supposed to be a facilitator, another adult adoptee, but she couldn’t come. And honestly, it’s better this way, feels less formal and more conversational. 

Vic gives Isaiah a filthy glare. 

“I think it’s safe to say that we all have commitment issues,” Isaiah says. “Or abandonment issues,” he adds. 

“Mood,” Zach mumbles. 

“So we get it, Vic,” Isaiah says seriously. 

Vic is only slightly tempted to roll her eyes. The Hughes kids do not have the best track record with relationships. 

“I just really don’t want to get involved with anyone again,” Vic says honestly. “Specially not someone from camp. Leo and I have enough going on as is without me trying to throw a romantic relationship into the mix. Because, clearly, those don’t tend to work out well.” 

“I thought that too,” Jack admits. “Right after Andrea broke up with me. I figured that relationships weren’t for me, and then I just kinda, fell in love with Maya, and it sounds cliche, but everything kinda fell into place.” He sounds wistful. 

“Aren’t you both chock full of abandonment issues?” Vic asks, her tone bordering on sarcastic. 

Jack takes it in stride. “Yes,” he says. ‘We were in couple’s counseling from pretty much Day 1. I’m not saying shit’s easy. It’s definitely not. But it’s been worth it.” 

Jack’s maybe been the most successful in relationships out of all of them, with the exception of Travis, but Travis’s dead husband further complicates matters. They’re all a mess, really. 

“You don’t have to push a relationship with Ripley specifically,” Jack adds. “But you deserve happiness. Don’t let your fear of commitment and fear of being abandoned take that away from you.” 

“When did you get so smart about this?” Isaiah asks. 

“Maya makes me read books about it,” Jack replies, making a face. “They’ve been surprisingly helpful. And this goes for all of us. We can’t let shit from the past hold us back from what’s in front of us.” 

Vic smiles tentatively. She wonders if perhaps this thing with Lucas Ripley could actually work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Camp is almost over. Whatsoever will we do? ;) 
> 
> We will get digging into what exactly happened with Vic's backstory and Andy will make an appearance soon, I promise. 
> 
> Please comment. They are my lifeblood. 
> 
> Sources 
> 
> Websites:  
> Parts of Imani and Isaiah’s conversation were pulled from the Dear Adoption blog. In particular, information was pulled from an article titled: Dear Adoption, I Don’t Want to Make My Mom Feel Bad, which was written by a twelve year old adoptee. 
> 
> I also used DearAdoption.com as a general resource for the various conversations in this chapter. 
> 
> Articles:  
> My Mom Voted for Trump- and I’m Barely Coping by Ray Gallagher (via Huffington Post)
> 
> How Trump Ruined My Relationship with My White Mother by Panama Jackson (via The Root)
> 
> Hashtags:  
> N/A 
> 
> Academic Articles:  
> N/A 
> 
> Books:  
> N/A 
> 
> Documentaries or Other Media:  
> Parts of the conversation between Jack, Isaiah, Travis, Vic, and Renee as well as Imani and Isaiah’s are drawn from The Adopted Life, a series done by Angela Tucker, who is an adult transracial adoptee in which she interviewed transracial adoptees from the ages of 11 to 20 (YouTube)
> 
> Season 4, Episode 3 of On She Goes which was an interview with Rebekah Hutson (of OnlyBlackGirl.com) and Shannon Johnson (international adoptee)
> 
> A note: I really struggled with writing Imani's emotions, which is why I turned to a lot of the aforementioned resources. Lucas is a good dad, and he's doing what he can, which is perhaps why Imani is so conflicted. I've read a lot about adoptees feeling somewhat responsible for their adoptive parents feelings. This ranges from not telling their APs about racist incidence to not asking questions about their families. It doesn't necessarily mean that their APs are bad parents. In fact, many adoptees that feel this way feel this way because their APs are _great_ parents. 
> 
> Anyway, as usual, feel free to comment with questions or hit me up on tumblr @cyrus-breeze


	4. 4. In Which There Are Interesting Conversations and a Plane Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I don’t hate this chapter as much as I do the others. 
> 
> Which isn’t saying a ton. 
> 
> The section in which Vic and her siblings talk about dating was actually one of the first parts of this fic that I wrote. It was inspired by a convo that I had had with several friends of mine about dating while being a POC. It’s just been chilling in my google docs for weeks. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Content warnings for some microagressions throughout.

June 9, 2019

 **vhughes:** Another year in the books! And we managed to find another camp family on the plane ride home. I honestly love camp so much, and this year was no exception. Leo had an absolute blast and he had an amazing time getting to speak in Amharic to a few of the camp presenters. And I had an awesome time being on a panel with (almost) all of my siblings (we’re waiting for you next year @cassieeeeeh). I can’t wait to see what next year brings.

-X-

“Hey, Dad,” Imani says. 

It’s late, the both of them are exhausted from the day’s festivities, and Lucas is poised to turn off the light. 

“What’s wrong kiddo?” Lucas asks, turning around to face his daughter. 

Imani looks nervous, and now Lucas is starting to panic. What was going on? 

Imani breathes slowly, deeply. “Can you tell me about my first parents?” She asks. 

At that, Lucas relaxes. Although he’s curious at what brought it on. 

When Imani was younger, she would ask for stories about Sully and Claire all of the time. But as she got older, the questions and requests stopped. Lucas had followed the advice of many of the books he read and let Imani be the lead on everything regarding Claire and Sully, so he didn’t share stories unless she asked. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Lucas says. 

Imani visibly relaxes. 

“Did you know I met your dad on the first day of firefighter school?”

Imani shakes her head.

“I was pretty terrified,” Lucas continues. “I had just graduated from college with a degree in engineering before I decided for a complete career change. So, I applied for the academy, and I got in. And your dad was the very first person I met. We were standing in line-up and he introduced himself.” 

“And after our first week, your Dad invited me and Ms. Laura out for dinner. And, Imani, your Mom was the smartest person I’ve ever met. She was incredible with math.” 

“Like me?” Imani asks, eyes bright and shining. 

And it hurts.

“Yes, Mani,” Lucas says. “Just like you.” He squeezes Imani’s hand. “She could do math in her head almost as fast as a calculator,” he continues. And Lucas spends the next several minutes telling Imani stories about Claire. 

(It’s easier to talk about Claire than it is to talk about Sully. Because Claire hadn’t been his best friend, she was a friend no doubt, but Sully had been Lucas’s closest friend for years. They had gone through hell and back together. Sometimes it hurt to even think about him.) 

“I didn’t know that,” Imani says when Lucas tells her that Claire was the you best engineering professor to work at the University of Washington. 

Lucas beams. “She was incredible, kiddo.”

Imani yawns, and she blinks three times, struggling against sleep. “Will you tell me more later?” 

“Oh, absolutely, sweet one,” Lucas says. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” 

And it’s a promise.

-X-

 **Kaleb:** how was camp? 

Vic huffs, glances at the text message, and places her phone back into her pocket. 

It’s early, and Leo is still sleeping, tired from the events of the past few days. 

Vic doesn’t want to talk about camp to Kaleb. Not now. She’d rather ask him what his mom is up to, but Vic isn’t even sure that Kaleb talks to Nicole these days. 

She knows from Lydia, Kaleb’s sister, that their relationship is strained at best, and Kaleb doesn’t seem the type to ask his adoptive mom about the mundane, day to day things. 

Vic has pictures to send Kaleb later, like the one of Leo with a pint sized djembe drum and a few more of him at the Ethiopian coffee ceremony. But right now, she’s not going to respond to his text message. 

She does the mental math, calculates that it’s evening in Addis Ababa. It won’t kill Kaleb to wait for a reply. 

Vic zips up her suitcase. 

Camp’s nearly over, and Vic feels the weight of that right now. There’s relief. It had been her first year as a coordinator and it was totally exhausting and incredibly stressful, but Vic still feels the pang of sadness that she gets at the end of camp every year. There’s something awful about leaving the one place where your family feels normal. When she was a kid and a teenager attending camp, she would watch and wait to see how long it took the camp bubble to be popped. Usually, it took the form of a confused TSA agent or a weird hotel manager or an unusually nosy fellow passenger. Sometimes, they made it all the way home and the camp bubble was popped by default, when they returned to their mostly white friends and neighbors. 

Vic glances at her watch, and the stupid text notification pops up again. Vic swipes it away and sighs again. 

She’ll needs to wake Leo up if they’re going to make it to closing ceremonies on time. 

“Lion,” Vic says gently, giving Leo a small nudge. 

Leo’s eyes open a moment later. 

“I’m tired, momma,” he whines. 

“I know baby,” Vic says. She strokes his hair, which is soft and curly but definitely needs to be washed and conditioned when they get back. “Closing ceremonies start soon and we have to get ready.”

At that, Leo nods, eyes still heavy with sleep. 

“Love you Mommy,” he says as he fumbles his way off the bed. 

“Love you too, Lion. Let’s get ready.” 

-X- 

Lucas tries to force himself to breathe as he approaches Vic. 

Closing ceremonies have just ended, and camp is officially over. It feels bittersweet. Sweet because the closing ceremony had been incredible but bitter because it feels like it’s all over too soon. 

Imani seemed dejected when they woke up in the morning, but she was now playing with her newest friend, giving Lucas a chance to talk to Vic. He was nervous, shaking almost, but he figured that if worse came to worst, he did have an out in the form of Imani. 

“Hey,” Vic says when he approaches. “Did you enjoy closing ceremonies?” 

Lucas nods. “It was nice, and I loved the dance that the kids did, and I thoroughly enjoyed dancing with Imani when they invited the parents up.” 

“It was really sweet,” Vic agrees. 

Lucas inhales slowly. Might as well do it quickly, like ripping off a band-aid. “Excuse me if this is forward of me, but could I get your contact info.” Lucas knows his face has gone red. He can feel it. 

Vic blinks and Lucas thinks that he has terribly misread the entire situation. Part of him wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

“Maybe if you wanted to talk or something or just, I don’t know. I mean, Seattle’s adoption community is kinda small and…” Lucas is starting to panic a little, but then Victoria smiles at Lucas and Lucas breathes a sigh of relief.

“Sure,” Victoria says. “Since Seattle’s adoption community is small and everything.” She smirks lightly. 

She’s teasing, and Lucas feels his face get impossibly hotter. 

She offers him her phone which has been pulled up to her contact page. Lucas types in his number and quickly updates the contact. He hands the phone back to Victoria. 

She smiles at him.

“Victoria!’ A voice calls out. 

It’s the director of camp. 

“I should go,” Victoria says. “But I will text you.” 

Lucas nods. 

“I guess I’ll see you when we’re back in Seattle,” Victoria offers. 

“See you then,” Lucas agrees. 

And Victoria turns and walks over to the camp director. 

Twenty-five minutes later, when Imani and Lucas are in the car on their way to lunch, his phone pings with a text message. 

**Maybe: Vic:** Hey, it was really nice to meet you and Imani at camp this week. I really enjoyed chatting with you and hope to see you back in Seattle sometime. :) 

-X-

It’s been tradition for at least the last seven years for the Hughes kids to get lunch together after camp sans parents. It started off as a way to decompress after camp, to process without their parents looming overhead, but now it’s a good way to bond with each other, and there’s significantly less emphasis on the nitty gritty. Mom and Dad have the younger kids, Leo, and also Gabby’s son and daughter Rafael and Nadezhda. They’ve taken the kids to some restaurant that’s famous for having a train inside of it and the kids were thrilled. Meanwhile, the adults are at a high-end diner that had great reviews on Yelp 

“Alright everyone,” Hannah says, interrupting Vic’s thoughts. “Camp highs and lows.” 

“Shits and lits,” Enrique corrects teasingly. 

“There are children present,” Hannah says. 

Cassie laughs. “I’ve been in the car with dad. I know just about every swear word in the book.” 

“Fine,” Hannah says. “Shits and lits. Gabby, wanna start?” 

Gabby nods. “So, my shit for camp was probably doing the unpacking white privilege workshop for some of the new parents. I had to deal with a parent that was very adamant about the fact that she didn’t see color.” 

“Yikes,” says Isaiah. 

Gabby sighs. “There was really no getting it through to her that the colorblind mentality is actually racist in it of itself, so finally I said, ‘If I were to steal your wallet right now and run, how would you describe me to the police?’” 

“Shit, that’s actually a good analogy,” Enrique says. “I’ll have to use that next time.” 

“And my lit is watching all of the parents dance during closing ceremonies,” Gabby says. “That literally made my morning.” 

“Nice,” Hannah says. ‘I guess I’ll go. My shit was probably my plane arriving an hour late and nearly missing my connecting flight and almost having a panic attack in an international airport. And my lit was most definite doing the panel with you guys.” 

Enrique makes a gagging noise, and Hannah glares at him. 

 

“Sap,” Enrique says, but he’s grinning. “I’ll go next,” he says. “My shit was getting asked that one super invasive question during the panel. But my lit was showing some of the high schoolers that were doing parkour that I could do a handstand in my wheelchair. They lost their minds.” 

Their food arrives, spurring them to temporary silence. 

As the last plate is set down, the waitress also sets down a bottle of tabasco sauce. 

The seven of them share a knowing look. 

“I can’t even be mad,” Isaiah says, laughing. He swipes the sauce. “I was going to ask anyway.” 

Vic laughs too and then swipes the hot sauce from her brother when he finishes. It’s easier to laugh about it because if she got angry about every microaggression, she’d be angry all the time, and that’s exhausting. It’s easier to put time and energy toward the stuff that matters most to her. She can deal with the microaggressions once the systemic issues are addressed. 

(Vic likes hot sauce well enough, anyway. She started using hot sauce on everything when she was fifteen, as some misguided attempt to feel closer to Black culture. (She was in the midst of an actual identity crisis, and it had seemed like a good idea at the time.) And now, she still uses hot sauce, albeit a lot less, but her fries taste better with hot sauce than with ketchup.)

She douses her fries with hot sauce and then hands the bottle to Enrique who uses hot sauce like he uses air. 

“Anyone else?” Rique asks, holding up the bottle. 

The remaining four shake their head.

Enrique teasingly offers the bottle to Gabby, who makes a face. Gabby doesn’t do spicy things. The worst she can do is the pickled jalapeños that come with pizza, which is to say, things that aren’t actually spicy. 

“So,” Gabby says brightly. “Who’s next?” 

“I’ll go,” Isaiah offers smoothly. “My shit was when we lost a kid for like fifteen minutes.” 

“You lost a kid?” Gabby interrupts. 

Isaiah nods. “He was hanging out with his brother,” he says. “And my lit was definitely doing the theater workshop with my kids. Some of the kids had such an incredible stage presence, it was unreal.”

“My turn,” Zach says. “My low was my hearing aids short circuiting on the first day and having to have mom go buy me some new batteries. But my high is that I really liked my kids. They were really great.” 

“My low was that I had to deal with having Samuel in my small group,” Cassie says, sighing. “But my high was getting to go on a field trip and getting to hang out with some of the other seniors. I’m really going to miss everyone.” She smiles. “Except Sam,” Cassie adds, and the table dissolves into laughter.

The table turns to Vic. 

“My low was how many parents didn’t show up to their volunteer positions, and he had to scramble to get everything in order,” Vic says. “But my high was honestly getting to see the kids enjoying camp and also getting to see how excited Leo was for the djembe workshop.” 

“Sap,” Enrique says. 

Vic rolls her eyes. 

“And Vic’s other high is getting digits from a camp dad,” Isaiah says. 

Vic shoots Isaiah a desperate glare. 

Her siblings are like dogs with bones. Once they have something good, something juicy, they won’t let it go. 

“Is he white?” Is the first question out of Gabby mouth, which is a fair question. 

“He’s a camp parent, so yes,” Vic replies simply. 

“And no, Gabby,” Vic adds. “You can’t interview me for your research.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” Gabby says, feigning innocence. “I’m just saying that there’s compelling evidence to suggest that transracial adoptees are more likely to choose white partners than their peers.” 

“It’s a good topic,” Zach says. He turns to Vic. “I didn’t know you liked white guys.” 

“I don’t see color,” Vic returns, deadpan and without missing a beat, and the entire table erupts into laughter. 

“There’s glasses that can fix that,” Isaiah says between giggles. 

Once their laughter subsides, Zach speaks up again. 

“Lemme just say, I dated this one white girl my first semester, and she was a bit much.” Zach pauses, the continues. “We broke up after she told me that she had a thing for Asian men and that since she was from Utah, there weren’t a lot of Asians in the area. So she was glad that she met me. Because apparently Asian men are cuter than white men.”

“Yikes,” Enrique says, clenching his teeth. 

Vic makes an irritated face as well. 

“And then she didn’t understand why that was racist,” Zach continues. “I’ve got great taste in women,” he says sarcastically. 

“I mean, at least you did tell her what was wrong,” Gabby offers hopefully. “You could’ve just suffered quietly like I did when my first boyfriend did he liked Latina girls cuz they were ‘spicy.’” 

“Trevor was weird,” Hannah says, frowning. 

The silence that follows is quite comfortable, and then Isaiah speaks up. 

“I think the fact that his kid is black serves as a protective factor in this case,” Isaiah says. “I mean, he probably won’t go through some of the usual issues, and you don’t have to explain racism to him.” 

“So there’s probably isn’t any fetishizing going on,” Gabby adds smartly. 

“And it could be a sustainable relationship,” agreed Enrique.

“I mean, I’d go for it,” says Cassie. 

“Especially if you like him,” Hannah finishes. 

Vic feels her face go hot. She hates talking about relationships with her siblings. “Guys,” Vic says, sighing dramatically. “Can we stop talking about this? I don’t even know when I’m going to see him again.”

-X- 

As it turns out, when ends up being less than 3 hours later in the terminal of the Denver international airport. 

They both have priority boarding for the flight to Seattle, Vic since she’s got a toddler, and Lucas since Imani has a prosthetic leg. 

“Hey,” Lucas says brightly as they both line up for boarding. 

“Hey,” Vic says. “It feels like I haven’t seen you two in forever.” 

“It hasn’t been that long,” Imani interjects, misinterpreting Vic’s ironic response. “Hi, Ms. Vic.”

Lucas laughs. “I know,” he says. “It’s been what, five hours?” 

“Honestly,” Vic replies with a laugh. 

“I’m just ready to be home,” Lucas says. “Not that camp wasn’t fun, but I have a lot of work waiting for me at home. The one weekend I’m not there, and three people in my battalion end up suspended.” 

“Yikes,” Vic says. “I guess I shouldn’t complain about having to prep my kids for regionals.” 

“I’m sure that has its own challenges,” Lucas acquesies. 

Vic grins. “But we’ll make it. I think firefighting is maybe a wee bit more important.” 

“True,” Lucas agrees. “But humans need art for stress relief just as much as they need safety.” 

“I feel like Maslow would disagree with you,” Vic says, laughing. “But I get your point. Where are you sitting?” 

Lucas shows Vic his ticket. 

“No way!” Vic says. “We’re next to each other.” 

“Small world,” Lucas says. 

“We’re sitting next to each other?” Imani asks cheerfully. “So cool!” 

Vic grins. 

The flight attendant calls for boarding and Vic and Lucas hand the flight attendant their respective passes. 

The plane is nearly empty when they board, so it’s relatively easy for them to find their seats and settle into them. 

They’re waiting for others to board when a flight attendant approaches them. She’s white with bright red curls and an even brighter smile. 

“Sir,” she says, clearly speaking to Lucas. 

Lucas looks up. 

The flight attendant smiles. “Sir, I know that you booked your seating, but would you perhaps mind switching seats so that this woman could sit with both of her kids?” 

There’s an awkward silence that follows, as Lucas stares at the flight attendant for a moment. 

“This is my daughter, actually,” Lucas says, placing an arm around Imani. 

The flight attendant flushes red. “I didn’t realize you guys were _all_ together,” she says. “My apologies.” She turns and scurries down the hallway. 

Vic rolls her eyes.

“Camp bubble is popped,” she says to Lucas in a low voice. 

Lucas sighs. “It wasn’t worth it to correct her again, was it?” He asks. 

Vic shakes her head. “I think she was already embarrassed enough,” she agrees. 

Lucas sighs. “Camp bubble is popped indeed.” 

Both kids are asleep by the time the plane takes off. 

Imani had clearly been exhausted all week, but she had handled it well. But now that the adrenaline from camp is gone, she’s clearly tired. 

It seems that Leo is the same, and he’s sleeping soundly against Vic’s shoulder. 

Lucas wants to say something, but he’s not sure what. 

“So,” he says in a low voice. “What are your plans for after you return to Seattle?” 

Vic smiles. “Tonight, I’m going to bed. I have kids coming in tomorrow to prep for regionals so it’ll be a long day for me.” 

“You?” Vic asks. 

“Imani has school tomorrow, but I might let her skip another day depending on how tired she is. I, on the other hand, have a Battalion meeting at 8 that I can’t afford to miss.” 

“Sounds like fun,” Vic says sarcastically. 

Lucas laughs. “I actually kinda miss my job. We haven’t actually had a proper vacation in probably two years, so I forget what it’s like to not be working.”

“Where’d you go then?” Vic asks. 

“Australia,” Lucas replies. 

“That sounds like a fun vacation,” Vic says.  
“What led you to Australia?” 

“I grew up there,” Lucas answers. 

“How’d you end up in the States?” Vic asks, curious. 

“I moved when I was twelve,” Lucas replies. “My grandparents were here and my granddad got sick, so my mom and dad moved my sister and I to Seattle.” 

“Is your family still in the area?” Vic asks. 

Lucas bites his lip, features closing off. “My parents died when I was in college, and my sister’s in grad school in Portland.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Vic says, and she means it. She never knows how to respond to things like these, and sorry never feels like enough. 

Lucas nods. “What are you doing for the rest of the summer? Any more vacation plans?” 

Vic shakes her head. “I’ve got regionals the first week of July for my jazz kids and then in August we’re doing Newsies, so non competing kids will spend most of the summer preparing for that. But I will be at Seattle’s Juneteenth celebration.”

“Imani and I are going to try and go this year,” Lucas says. “It looked like a lot of fun.” 

“Seattle does a pretty great Juneteenth celebration,” Vic offers. “I’ve taken Leo the last two years. There’s lots of stuff for the kids to do, and there’s a barbecue afterward.” 

“When is it?” Lucas asks. 

“It’s the Saturday before Juneteenth, so it’s on the 15th of this month,” Vic says. 

“I shouldn’t have to work then,” Lucas says. “We definitely are going to check it out.” 

“I didn’t even know what Juneteenth was until I was 13 or 14 probably,” Vic says. “I was homeschooled, and when we got into high school, we could pick what we wanted to study for history. That’s how I ended up learning about Juneteenth. I don’t even think I actually celebrated it until I was in college.” Vic doesn’t know why she’s telling Lucas this. It feels oddly vulnerable. In a way that she rarely is. 

“We talked about Juneteenth last year,” Lucas says. “And it was the theme of Imani’s end of school program.”

“What school does she go to?” Vic asks. 

“Bailey Gatzert,” Lucas replies. 

“Bailey Gatzert is pretty involved in the community,” Vic says. “They brought some of the kids to the MLK day march. That’s where I’m looking at for Leo’s pre-k. Enrollment is not until next spring, but preschool enrollment is competitive. And I still haven’t decided what we’re going to do with elementary school yet.”

“I understand that,” Lucas says. “I know that Bailey Gezert doesn’t have the best rep as far as test scores go, but it’s more diverse than the one in our home district and Imani really loves it, and her teacher this year is black, and that has been an amazing experience for her. Plus, she’s doing good, she’s in gifted and talented programming, and it’s been pretty positive overall.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Vic says earnestly. “What else are you up to this summer?” Vic asks, bringing the subject back to their original topic.

“I’m working, that’s pretty much it,” Lucas says. He laughs. “Imani will be going to freedom school in July though.” 

“I enrolled Leo in freedom school too,” Vic says, a bit surprised at how excited she’s feeling at the prospect of seeing Lucas again. 

“It’ll be Imani’s first year,” Lucas says. “She’s thrilled. Her teacher from school is one of the coordinators. And after freedom school, she has a science camp with Grover Cleveland High School and the University of Washington. And then she’ll be at the Y until school starts again.” 

“That sounds like a fun summer,” Vic says. “Leo’s probably going to do Freedom school and then my job has a half day music school. After that, he’ll probably be at daycare or I’ll bring him to work for the rest of the summer.” 

“Does he like coming to work with you?” Lucas asks. 

Vic shrugs. “Sometimes,” she says. “He’ll occasionally jump into some of my preschool dance classes, and he likes music, but his real passion is in the drums.” 

“He must’ve been in heaven at camp,” Lucas says. 

Camp’s theme that year had been drums, and the kids got to do three drumming workshops. 

“Oh, he was absolutely thrilled,” Vic replies. “He has a djembe drum at home, so he was literally thrilled when they got to do the djembe workshop.” 

“That’s really sweet,” Lucas says. 

The PA system pings with an announcement, and both Vic and Lucas look up. 

“We are beginning our descent into Seattle,” the captain begins. Vic listens to the entire speech and feels mildly disappointed that the plane ride will be over soon. She’s most definitely ready to be home, but she had genuinely enjoyed chatting with Lucas. 

“Almost there,” Lucas says brightly. He gently nudges Imani. “Hey, kiddo,” he says. “It’s time to wake up. We’re almost there.” 

“Home?” Imani asks hopefully. 

Lucas nods. 

Imani blinks the sleep from her eyes. 

Vic decides against waking Leo just yet. He’ll be easier to carry until they get to the baggage claim. 

They spend the rest of the ride in almost complete silence as the crew members move through the cabin to grab trash and prepare for landing. 

And twenty minutes later, the wheels of the plane hit the ground with a thud. 

“We’re home!” Imani cheers. 

“Yes, we are,” Lucas agrees. 

It takes them awhile to deplane, and Vic lifts a still sleeping Leo and fits him comfortably on her shoulder. 

She and Lucas made quiet and menial small talk as they walk. Luckily, there isn’t too much of a hassle to make it from the gate to the terminal, and the bags arrive shortly after. Leo is now awake and is sitting on top of his Paw Patrol carry on, in a post nap haze.

“Ms. Vic?” Imani says as she grabs her pink zebra print suitcase off the baggage claim. 

“Yes,” Vic replies. 

“May I give you a hug?” She asks. 

Vic smiles warmly. “Of course,” Vic says. 

Imani hugs her tightly and Vic hugs back. 

“Alright, Imani,” Lucas says once the two of them have pulled away. “Say bye to Ms. Vic. We have to get home because you have school in the morning.” 

Imani groans, but she turns to Vic and smiles. “Bye, Ms. Vic,” Imani says.

“Bye Imani,” Vic says. “Bye Lucas.” 

The two of them hold eye contact for a long moment, probably longer that what was considered to be socially acceptable, but Vic can’t bring herself to look away from his bright blue eyes. 

“Mom, I gotta potty,” a voice says, and Vic turns to see Leo standing next to his suitcase looking stressed. 

“I guess that’s our cue,” Vic says. “I hope to see both of you guys sometime soon.” 

“Likewise,” Lucas responds. 

Leo tugs Vic’s hand, impatient, and she gives Lucas and Imani one last wave before she grabs their suitcases and walks into the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been informed by a friend of mine that this fic absolutely counts as a slow burn. I promise Vicley will stop staring at each other and actually act on their feelings soon. 
> 
> In fact, chapter 5 gets deep and a little heavy and we will be at least one step closer to emotional intimacy and the beautiful wonderful first kiss. 
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway sources: 
> 
> Websites: 
> 
> Seattle Public Schools website for information about test scores and about diverse schools within Seattle’s school district. Bailey Gatzert has around a 55% black student population, and this statistic does not include multiracial students who may be mixed with black. 
> 
> Articles: 
> 
> Does Racial Bias Affect Your Dating Life? By Francesca Ramsey via Everyday Feminism 
> 
> The Realities Of Raising a Kid of a Different Race by Karen Valby via Times Magazine 
> 
> How Did Hot Sauce Get In So Many African-Americans Bags Anyway? By Adrian Miller via The Washington Post 
> 
> Hot Sauce in Her Bag by Mikki Kendall via Eater
> 
> Why Do So Many Transracial Adoptees End Up With White Spouses? by Rebekah Hutson via OnlyBlackGirl 
> 
> White or Other: Who Do Transracial Adoptees Pick as Partners? By Sunny J. Reed 
> 
> Academic Articles: 
> 
> Much of the conversation about Imani and school is pulled from a John Hopkins study that found that black boys were more likely to graduate high school and attend college if they had just one black teacher in elementary school. I have some really cool stuff about 
> 
> Videos: 
> 
> Why I Avoid Men Who Are “Into Black Girls” by Kat Blaque (via YouTube) 
> 
> Instagram: 
> 
> The flight attendant mistaking Imani for not being Lucas’s daughter was taken from @ArtistMom_ (formerly fostermoms) and is also an experience that almost every transracial adoptive family goes through. 
> 
> Personal Experience: 
> 
> Vic and her siblings getting hot sauce on the table is based off of personal experience of me and most of my friends and family. I don’t like hot sauce, but somehow it never fails to be put on the table when I go out to eat. And most of my white friends have confirmed that when they’re out with other white people, they rarely if ever get hot sauce without asking. 
> 
> I think I got everything. If there’s something you have a question about. Feel free to comment or hit me up on tumblr @cyrus-breeze


	5. In Which There Is a Protest and Ice Cream, But Not a Protest of Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off: this might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. I made my best friend cry while he read this. So prepare for an emotional roller coaster. 
> 
> There’s not a whole bunch of Vicley in this chapter, but I pinky swear there will be some in chapter 6. 
> 
> The events in this chapter are based loosely off of real life and recent events.
> 
> Also, the Eric Sterling mentioned in this chapter is a reference to the little boy killed in the Grey’s Anatomy episode, Personal Jesus. 
> 
> Also WAP stands for White Adoptive Parent. 
> 
> **Trigger Warning:** This chapter deals with police brutality against a minor. Please please tread with caution.

**Transracial Adoption Discussions- Pacific Northwest**

**Dahlia Francis Lewis:** Yo, has anyone see this?What’s the latest news on it? Link to the video in comments. Trigger warning for police brutality against a MINOR. 

**Evan Davis:** Holy shit. God, this makes me scared and angry for my babies. I’m glad we decided to move out of the suburbs after a neighbor called the cops on my son for playing in our front yard. Definitely worth it to be in a neighborhood where being a kid isn’t “suspicious.”

Does BLM for Seattle and king county know about this? Definitely something that should be on their radar. 

**Scarlett Reed:** What. The. Fuck. I’m just now reading about this. I’m pretty sure that Quinn’s mom is in this group but Facebook won’t let me tag her. 

**Joy Baker:** **Scarlett Reed** I gotchu. **Elizabeth Ann Russo**  
**Scarlett Reed:** Thanks girl! 

**Elizabeth Ann Russo:** Thank you for posting the article. Were definitely very shaken up over here, and Quinn was very upset, as were the older kids. We talked to an officer and the coordinator for internal investigation. Doesn’t look like they’re going to do anything because the officer was acting within their rights. 

We’re scheduling a demonstration outside of Seattle’s Sheriff Office if anyone can attend. I’ll make an event on Facebook in a few minutes and share it here 

Also **Evan** BLM is aware and is helping me schedule the demonstration. 

**Joy Baker:** Oh my god Liz I’m so sorry. Sending prayers to you, Q, and your other kiddos.  
**Evan Davis** : I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. Sending love and light your way.  
**Victoria Hughes:** Hey, a friend of mine (who is also a transracial adoptee, although he is white) has some contacts in the Seattle Police Department and on city council. We need to get a permit for the demonstration.  
**Elizabeth Ann Russo** Hi **Victoria** I PM’d you. 

**Arya Grace Gables:** WAPs: this is what we mean when we say that you protect your kids with your privilege. If Quinton’s mom hadn’t been white, I wonder if he would’ve been unharmed. Just a reminder to all white parents that no matter how terrifying it may be to watch, running out could cause a situation to escalate. I’m glad Quinn is okay, but let’s be real: they will use any justification they can to keep killing us. Sending love and light your way. I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been for your kids.  
**Elizabeth Ann Russo:** Absolutely Arya, thank you for sharing. I know exactly what you mean and you’re not stepping on toes at all. I go back and forth between being relieved that my privilege kept Quinn alive and angry that the system is like this. I know that I shouldn’t have run out but my mind was in full on panic mode and I wanted nothing more than to protect Quinn

**Zoey Todd** Wrong Place at the wrong time? It was his fucking HOUSE! 

**Aster Lee Wilkins:** 1312\. 1312. 1312. 

**Aster Lee Wilkins:** So sick of this shit, and I’m glad this baby isn’t a hashtag. God, I’m tired of the policing of black bodies. Just another day. 

 

-X- 

Eleven year old Quinton Russo is energetic, lively, and hilarious. He’s also small for his age. At just over 11 years old he’s only four feet and five inches. 

Russo is by no means a big kid but what he lacks in size, he makes up for in personality. But his small stature is what this weekend’s events were exceptionally shocking. 

“I was standing here,” says Russo, pointing at a patch of grass in his front lawn. “And the officer got out of his art, and I held my hands up, and he told me to get on the ground, so I did. Then the officer tried to cuff me and he pulled my hand too hard and that’s when my mom came out.” 

Russo is referring to an incident that occurred on June 12th, where an officer mistook Russo for a suspect in a robbery. A gun was pointed in Russo’s direction, and he was cuffed while on the ground. The suspect was described as a Hispanic or Polynesian man with a medium built. Russo’s mom, Elizabeth, believes her son doesn’t fit that description. 

“He’s a little boy,” says Elizabeth. “He’s only 4 foot five, and he does not look like he’s Polynesian or Hispanic.” 

Quinn Russo and his brother and sister Darius Russo, 15, and Zephaniah Russo, 17, were adopted from Ethiopia in 2010. Their mother and father, Elizabeth and David Russo are both white. Quinn was diagnosed with Osteogenesis Imperfecta Type I. His bones are more brittle than other kids, leading to him experiencing a broken hand during the altercation. 

“It doesn’t really hurt,” says Russo, showing off his neon blue cast. “I’m used to broken bones. I was honestly more scared that the officer was going to really hurt me.” 

Mrs. Russo has called for an investigation into the matter, and the Seattle Police Department have stated that they are investigating the incident. 

In a statement released yesterday, the department said: 

“We are very dissatisfied to hear about this matter and the Seattle Police Department takes these matters very seriously. Our officer was pursuing a suspect from a robbery and had been informed that the subject could’ve been armed. He had limited information and made the best decision he could in the moment. It was a matter of this young man being in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

We wish the situation hadn’t ended how it did, and we wish the young man a speedy recovery. 

We are investigating the matter and are looking to see what we can do to resolve the issue.”

“I don’t want excuses,” says Elizabeth Russo. “They had a gun pointed at my baby’s head. He was about to be arrested before I ran outside. The officer could have broken my son’s arm or one of his ribs. I want answers, and I want an investigation to be conducted.” 

Elizabeth Russo also believes that the situation escalated because her son is black.

“I doubt they would’ve been so aggressive had Quinn been a young white boy,” says Russo. “I do think that race played a role.” 

Quinn agrees. “People look at me different all the time ‘cause I’m black. I’m used to it now.” He shrugs. 

The Seattle Police Department is adamant that race didn’t play a role. “All of our officers go through anti-bias training and the officer in question acted within protocol,” says police department spokesperson, Bridget Wiseman. 

Only time will tell what, if anything, an investigation will reveal, but one thing's for certain, Elizabeth Russo and her family will never feel the same about police. 

“I knew that things were different for my kids because the color of their skin, but I never understood it clearly until now,” explains Russo. “I used to think that we lived in a safe neighborhood, that my kids were safe here, and now I’m not so sure.”

-X-

He isn’t exactly expecting to run into Victoria Hughes at a protest. Or maybe he is, but it isn’t why he goes. 

Although, Seattle’s adoption community is small, and the word was spread in pretty much all of the adoption groups about a protest of police brutality against an adoptee. 

Leo’s in a stroller, and he is wearing a black shirt which reads, “My Life Matters.” 

Victoria is chatting with Jack Gibson so she doesn’t notice Lucas, but Lucas does catch a glimpse of her shirt, which says, “I can’t keep calm. I have a black son.” 

“Leo!” Imani calls when she catches sight of him. 

Leo waves brightly, and Victoria turns from talking with Jack and waves the two of them over. 

Lucas follows. 

“Hey, Imani, how are you?” Jack says brightly. He gives Imani a high-five.

“I’m doing okay,” Imani says. She gives Jack a small smile. 

“And how are you, Lucas?” Victoria asks. 

“We’re doing good,” Lucas replies. “I’m surprised by the turn out.” There are around a hundred people here and Lucas had been expecting a smaller protest. 

“We kinda just sprung this together,” Victoria says. “I’m honestly also impressed by how quickly it got organized.” Victoria turns to Imani. “I like your shirt,” she says.

Imani beams. It’s one of Imani’s favorite shirts. It has the silhouette of a little girl in an Afro with a black power fist raised. The bottom text reads “I MATTER.” 

“Thank you, Ms. Vic,” she says. 

They’re early, and the event itself doesn’t start for a few minutes, so Victoria unbuckles Leo and Imani and Leo scamper off to the adjacent field, where several other kids were playing. 

“So,” Lucas says. “I’ve done marches, but I’m kinda new to protests. What are we doing?” 

“We’re hoping to catch the Chief of Police on his way out,” Victoria says. 

“I know vaguely what happened, but the article I read was somewhat unclear,” Lucas says.

“Quinn was playing outside at his house,” Victoria begins. “Apparently there had been a robbery nearby, and the suspects had left on foot. An officer approached Quinn, and Quinn put his hands up and got down on the ground like he was asked. The officer then proceeded to cuff him. Quinn has osteogenesis imperfecta, so his bones are more brittle and the force snapped two of his fingers and his hand. He was cuffed, at which point his mom came running out and screamed that she was his mom and he was only eleven years old. The officer released him, got back in his car, and left. Quinn’s mom called 911, reported the altercation, and then she took Quinn to the ER and got his fingers set. They sent an officer to the hospital to speak with his mom and took statements. Quinn’s mom wants to pressure the department to turn the investigation over to the state.” 

“I have a friend in the police force who says that they might cave with enough pressure, but that’s probably because Quinton’s mom is white, and she has some pull on city council,” Jack adds. 

“That’s a bunch of bullshit,” Lucas says with a huff. He’s heard of instances like this before; he and Imani have talked about police, especially after Eric Sterling had been killed, and it hurts him to know that this has happened again, so close to home. 

“The event doesn’t officially start until 4, but I believe that Quinton’s mom is going to speak about everything and then we will chant until the chief of police comes out,” Victoria finishes. She glances over at the field, where Imani, Leo, and several other kids are gathering in a circle. 

The protest is mild, as far as protests go. Quinn’s mom speaks, one of the coordinators for black lives matted Seattle speaks and then they chant until the police chief comes out. 

“I cannot comment on interpersonal matters within the department. All I can say is that we are handling this incident in a manner that is consistent with department policy,” is all he says as he hurries to his car, desperately trying to avoid the cameras from the newspaper and news. Lucas has only met the police chief a handful of times, but the stuff he’s heard from others isn’t good. 

The demonstration ends shortly after the chief of police leaves. And Victoria turns to Lucas, Imani, and Jack. 

“So,” she says. “I make it my tradition to get ice cream after a protest.” 

Lucas smiles at Victoria. 

“You guys wanna come?” She asks. 

Jack shakes his head. “I promised my mom I would come over for dinner. She’s making Jollof Rice.”

“Okay, I’m actually kinda jealous!” Victoria replies, laughing. She turns to Lucas. “What about you and Imani?” She asks. 

“That sounds great, actually,” Lucas says. He and Imani had nothing to do tonight except eat pizza and watch Disney movies. 

Lucas ends up following Victoria to an ice cream shop that’s only a few minutes from the sheriff’s office. 

The four of them end up sitting in a booth, each with their own ice cream sundae. 

Imani speaks up first. “I don’t think it’s fair what happened to Quinton,” she blurts. “He got hurt and he could’ve died, and me and Quinton are the same age.” 

Lucas doesn’t know how to respond. 

“It wasn’t fair,” Victoria agrees. 

“It’s stupid,” Imani says, taking. bite of her ice cream. “And it makes me feel angry because cops are supposed to help people.”

“Most cops do help people,” Lucas adds, hoping to quell some on Imani’s fears. 

Imani sighs. “I know,” she says. “But…” Imani trails off. 

“It feels pretty scary because we hear a lot about mean cops, huh?” Victoria asks. 

Imani nods. 

Lucas sighs, and he doesn’t say more. Because Victoria relates to Imani about this in a way that Lucas never can. 

“Some of the people my dad works with are really nice,” Imani says. “So I know that not all cops are mean, but the mean ones make me feel scared sometimes.” 

“Me too,” Victoria says. 

“I just wish I could do something to make it go away,” Imani says. 

“You helped today,” Victoria replies. “Protests are one of the most effective ways to ask for change. They’re very important.” 

At that, Imani’s eyes light up. “Protests are super important! Dad and I have been reading books about Dr. Martin Luther King and Malcolm X and Angela Davis.” 

“Me and mommy read Malcolm Little!” Leo interrupts. “I liked that book!” 

“Me too,” Imani agrees. “And We read about how civil rights leaders helped make a lot of change happen in the United States during the civil rights era. And now we’re reading about Alicia Garza and Patrisse Cullors And Opal Tometi.”

“See,” Victoria says. “I know that sometimes things get scary, but there are some things you can do to help and make change.”

“Okay,” Imani says. She smiles. 

The table falls into a comfortable silence, and they sit and eat their ice cream. 

“I have to pee,” Imani says as she stands. 

“Be safe,” Lucas tells her, glad that the bathroom is in his line of sight. 

“That was really great how you talked to her,” Lucas says. 

“I learned that from my sister,” Victoria replies. “Whenever she takes her kids to a protest, they get ice cream after so that they can sit and process. Sometimes, there are outbursts. But I think it’s good to talk about why we’re protesting, so that kids can start to understand the importance of protesting, and so that they know there’s a point to standing outside of the Sheriff’s office on a Friday afternoon. And I get where Imani is coming from, being anxious.” 

“It’s a good idea,” Lucas says. “Debriefing after going to a protest. It’s definitely something I’m going to start using.” Lucas rubs his beard. “There’s so much that I can’t get, that I don’t get with Imani.” 

“But you’ve done your homework,” Victoria says. “I mean, you moved neighborhoods and switched schools so that Imani could have teachers and peers that look like her. And you’re very educated on race and racism. Not a lot of parents would do that.” 

“I know, I just, I feel like I could be doing more,” Lucas responds. “I am so scared for her.” He doesn’t get an opportunity to say more because Imani is walking back to the table. 

The four of them sit in silence and eat their ice cream. 

“Hey, Dad,” Imani says. 

“Yes,” Lucas replies. 

“Can we go to the boardwalk?” Imani asks. 

“Absolutely,” Lucas replies. They’ve both had a rough day. 

“Ms. Vic, do you want to come?” Imani asks. 

Victoria looks from Imani to Lucas and back again. “Sure,” she says decidedly. “I think it’d be nice to walk down to the boardwalk. What do you say Leo?” She asks her son. 

“Boardwalk! Boardwalk! Boardwalk!” He cheers. 

-X-

The boardwalk is easily one of Lucas’s favorite places in Seattle, and Imani loves it as well. 

“Don’t go in any water past your feet,” Lucas tells her as she and Leo prepare to go down to the shore. “And keep an eye on your new friend,” he adds. 

Imani nods. “I will,” she says. “I promise.” 

She grabs Leo by the hand, and the two of them walk over to the shoreline. 

Lucas takes a seat with Victoria in the sand. Vic’s brought the picnic blanket she keeps in her car. 

“Today has been a shitty day,” Lucas says. “I had to suspend someone this morning for saying a racial slur. He can’t return until he’s been through anti-bias training, but that’s honestly not enough. And then I get a message about this. I mean, as First Responders, we’re supposed to be unbiased. We have to make split second decision and we’re supposed to do so and do it without prejudice, and I just… I don’t even know.” 

Victoria nods her agreement. “My heart was in my stomach when I found out,” says Vic.”I always tend to think that Seattle is safe. We have some of the strongest anti-discrimination laws in the country. The city is diverse. There’s black lives matter signs everywhere, and then shit like this happens, and I get terrified for Leo all over again.”

“Imani is so young, so I don’t have to worry about her being out alone, but I don’t know how I’m going to handle it when she gets older,” Lucas says. 

“Leo’s tall for his age,” Victoria says, and it almost seems random, but she continues. “He’s in the 96th percentile already. I’m 5’9 and his dad is 6’3 and my brother is 6’2, and I wonder how long Leo gets to be little for. My brother was already 5’9 when he was thirteen, and he wasn’t a small kid. Tamir Rice was twelve. And Eric Sterling was eleven years old, and it happened right in our backyard, in Seattle, and nothing happened to the cop who killed him. And then there’s Quinn. He’s tiny and he’s so fragile. They were just babies, the cops saw them as problems rather than people. And I wonder how long Leo has before he’s no longer just a cute kid.”

“I honestly don’t think it really hit me until I heard the news about Sandra Bland,” Lucas says. “Most of the time when we hear about police brutality, it’s with black boys and men. Imani was 5 when that happened, and it shook me to my core. Part of me wanted to naively believe that it couldn’t happen to us because we were in Seattle. And I know that it’s naive but it killed me to know that my kid was going to be walking around in a world that wasn’t safe for her, so I talked to her about police, but I still tried to tell myself it wouldn’t happen here. And then we lost Eric Sterling last year, and I just...” 

“I know,” Victoria says. “And I worry for Isaiah too. He’s not a small dude, and he lives in a primarily white area and drives a relatively nice car. He clips his driver’s license and insurance to his dashboard so he doesn’t have to reach for anything. Just, Quinton was literally too close too home. The Russo’s only live a few streets away from us. And I know Quinn’s family. This was too close.”

They both look at the shoreline where Leo and Imani was splashing each other, carefree and childlike and Lucas’s heart simultaneously expand and shatters. He wants Imani and Leo to be carefree for as long as possible. He hates that this is reality for his daughter. 

“Sometimes, I feel like I should take a page from Leo’s book,” Victoria says. 

Lucas tilts his head questioningly. 

“Carefree,” Victoria responds, gesturing at the two kids. “He’s so joyful. We’re going to worry about them all the time. That’s our job as parents. But Leo loves the little things, and sometimes we lose sight of that with the bigger picture. Joy can be resistance in the face of oppression.”

“I like that,” Lucas says. 

He watches the two kids play. They’re now trying to build a sandcastle with their hands. 

“What are you doing on parents night out for freedom school?” Victoria asks, and Lucas is grateful for the change of subject. The first Friday of freedom school is always parents night out, and the kid’s day is extended until 9pm. The kids go and see a movie usually or they’ll do another activity in the community and the goal is to give parents a night off. 

“Paperwork, probably,” Lucas answers honestly. “You?” 

“I was thinking about getting a drink,” Victoria says. She pauses. “I like company when I drink. You could be company. You don’t have to,” Victoria continues. “Especially if paperwork is calling your name.”

Lucas chuckles. “I mean, you invited me, it would be rude not to join, for just a drink.” 

“Right,” Victoria says. She smiles. “Just a drink.”

Lucas grins back. “A drink,” he agrees. 

-X-

“Remember how we talked about police officers,” Lucas asks on his and Imani’s drift home. It’s a leading question.

Imani nods, and Lucas makes eye contact with her via the rear view mirror. 

“Most cops are nice, but cops are people too, and some people are racist and mean, so I have to be careful,” Imani says. “And I should be polite to everyone, but especially police officers. I shouldn’t try to be smart with them or talk back and I should always say yes sir and no sir or yes ma’am and no ma’am.”

“Mhmm,” Lucas agrees. 

“And I have to keep my hands where they can see them. And I have to tell them my name, how old I am, that I don’t have any weapons, and that I have a fake leg, way they know why there’s metal on my leg,” Imani continues. 

“And what else?” Lucas says. And Lucas hates this, he truly does. It’s a conversation that no parent ever wants to have with their kids. He doesn’t want Imani to be scared of cops, but he knows that her reality will always be different from his. 

“And if they take me to the police station, then I should call either you or Auntie Gia or Auntie Deborah and I shouldn’t answer any questions or sign anything until one of you guys shows up,” Imani says. 

Lucas has drilled this into her in as friendly a manner as he can manage. After Eric Sterling was killed, he realized how close to home things were, and even though the conversation about police had been ongoing, Lucas knew he needed to have “ _The Talk_.” Gia helped, and Lucas had never been more grateful for his friend’s wife. His was able to relay her real life experiences and help Imani understand things in a way that Lucas never could. 

“Oh,” Imani says. “And I shouldn’t ever run, even if the cop is mean and I’m really really scared.” Imani’s voice cracks when she says that, and Lucas aches with the entirety of his being. “And if I have to grab something in my pocket, then I need to tell him that and say I’m not reaching for a weapon.” 

“That’s good, Imani,” Lucas says. “You are smart and you are strong and you are amazing, kid. And I love you and I want you to come home. That’s what’s important. I want you to come home.”

“I know,” Imani says. Tears are falling down her cheeks now. “And one more thing,” she says. “I have to do exactly what an officer tells me to do so that he doesn’t think I’m trying to cause trouble.” 

Lucas nods. He can’t bring himself to say something like, “that’s right.” Because it isn’t. It’s not fair. It’s unjust. 

They fall into a silence, and Imani stares out the window. 

“Dad?” She says after a moment. 

“Yes,” Lucas responds. 

“What if the officer tells me to dance and I do and he still shoots me?” 

And Lucas can’t respond. He doesn’t know what to say. No amount of classes or books in the world could’ve prepared him for this. 

They’ve arrived at home, and Lucas says nothing as he pulls Imani into a tight hug. She scrambles into his arms, and Lucas lifts her up and carries her inside, like he did when she came home for the first time eight years ago.

He holds his daughter close and he cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn’t going to be everyone’s favorite chapter, and I’m sure I stepped on sons toes (I honestly dgaf). But I wanted to show the reality of black children in the US. Most of this was pulled from real conversations that I’ve both heard and seen. This is just reality for me and the little black boys and girls that I love. 
> 
> Websites:
> 
> KilledByPolice.net
> 
> MappingPoliceViolence.org
> 
> Articles: 
> 
> The situation in this chapter was pulled directly from recent headlines, wherein a developmentally disabled ten year old with vision problems named DJ Hrubes had a gun pointed at his head by a police officer in Woods Cross Count, Utah. DJ was adopted from Haiti as an infant following the 2010 earthquake. His adoptive mom is white, which was probably his saving grace as she came sprinting out of her home and screamed that DJ was her son. As of current, it looks like nothing will come from this investigation. 
> 
> Holly Richardson: DJ Hrubes Is One Lucky Young Man via Salt Lake Tribune  
> Mom wants answers after Utah officer points gun at young black boy during search for shooting suspects by Elle Thomas via Fox13 Salt Lake City  
> What Adoption Classes Didn’t Teach Us About Raising Black Children by Paula Fitzgibbons via Scary Mommy 
> 
> New study gives broader look into how police killings affect black Americans’ mental health by Joshua Barajas via PBS 
> 
> How Black Girls Aren’t Afforded the Presumption of Innocence by Adrienne Green via The Atlantic 
> 
> There are huge racial disparities in how US police use force by German Lopez via Vox 
> 
> Black Joy is Black Resistance by Broderick Greer via The Huffington Post 
> 
> Something’s wrong when the law-abiding are afraid of police BY Leonard Pitts, Jr. via Miami Herald 
> 
> Tia Mowry Talks Adjusting To The Racism She Experiences With Her Black Husband Vs Growing Up With A White Father by Veronica Wells via Madame Noire 
> 
>  
> 
> Academic Sources:
> 
> Black children, especially Black boys, are considered less innocent than their peers of the same age. This assertion is based on this study: https://www.apa.org/news/press/releases/2014/03/black-boys-older. 
> 
>  
> 
> Above the Law: Police and the Excessive Use of Force: https://www.ncjrs.gov/App/Publications/abstract.aspx?ID=141219
> 
> Police-Related Deaths and Neighborhood Economic and Racial/Ethnic Polarization, United States, 2015–2016: https://ajph.aphapublications.org/doi/10.2105/AJPH.2018.304851
> 
> Videos: 
> 
> Cuz He’s Black by Javon Johnson on Button Poetry via YouTube 
> 
> How to Deal with Police | Parents Explain | Cut via YouTube (Warning: I made it exactly 18 seconds into this video before I started crying.) 
> 
> Traffic Stop by StoryCorps via YouTube (Warning for Language and violence.) This is the story of a transracial adoptee living in Denver.
> 
> Dear Child- When Black Parents Have to Give Their Child “The Talk” by Jubilee via YouTube 
> 
> Genocide by Darius Simpson on Buttok Poetry via YouTube 
> 
> Mad Libs: Black Death Addition by Charlotte Abigail on Button Poetry via YouTube. 
> 
> The line in which Imani asks, “what if the cop tells me to dance and I do and he still shoots me?” was taken from Black, White, and Us on Amazon Prime
> 
> Personal Sources:  
> My transition has been one of those most interesting factors in my dealing with police. It has been quite the experience to watch perceptions of my shift as I begin to pass more and am perceived as more of a threat. Passing should be an exhilarating experience, but it has definitely been tainted by fear. I guess it is what it is however. 
> 
> Wikipedia Pages (yeah, I know):
> 
> Tamir Rice  
> Sandra Bland  
> Alton Sterling  
> Philando Castille  
> Michael Brown


	6. In Which There Are Drinks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't hate this chapter. It's not my favorite either, because I suck at writing first dates. That said, I hope you all enjoy.

June 25th, 2019

 **Kaleb:** Hey, just wanted to check up on you today… 

-X- 

_January 16th, 2016_

“I’ve been thinking,” says Kaleb. 

“That’s dangerous,” Vic retorts, laughing softly. Her laughter feels forced. Vic stares at Kaleb. They both look like shit, Vic is sure. It’s been fifteen days since Gabe died, and it feels like an eternity.

Kaleb smiles. His smile seems forced too. “I’ve been thinking about moving,” he clarifies.

Vic tilts her head, her fake smile vanishing in an instant. “To where?” She asks. “New York? I thought you already declined admission to grad school at Columbia.” He was supposed to go to grad school for public policy, but after everything, he had decided to stay in the Pacific Northwest, which limited his choices. 

Kaleb pauses, looks like a deer caught in headlights. “Not New York,” he says. “I’ve been thinking about moving to Addis Ababa.” 

“Addis Ababa?” Vic says, and it feels like the air has evaporated from the room. “You mean like, in Ethiopia?” 

Kaleb nods slowly. 

“For how long?” Vic asks, feeling her voice crack. 

“A few months, maybe,” says Kaleb. “I met this guy online, calls himself a search angel, says he can help find me and Gabriel’s parents. He’s legit. I asked around. There’s a few Ethiopian adoptees who found their biological families using him. I want to look for my parents and go and speak with them, and I want to tell our parents in person what happened to Gabe. They deserve to know. I mean, they relinquished us because we were supposed to have a better life.” 

Vic swallows. “So you’re thinking about doing this?” She asks. “When would you leave?” 

“Three days,” Kaleb answers. 

Vic stares at him, realization dawning on her. “You’re not thinking about it, are you?” She asks. “You’re going,” she says matter-of-factly. “When did you buy the tickets?” 

“The day after Gabe’s funeral,” Kaleb says, avoiding Vic’s eyes but not even trying to deny the truth. “Look, Vic, I need to do this. I need to find our parents. It’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time, and Gabe dying just reminded me of how fragile everything is. I don’t want to wait until it’s too late.” 

“So you’re just going to fly to a foreign country that you haven’t been to in two decades and hope for the best?” Vic demands, feeling anger surge within her. “You don’t even speak Amharic!” 

“I can learn,” Kaleb says. “I spoke it exclusively until I was six, I’m sure I can pick it up again.” 

Vic stares at him. “So you’re just going to leave everything here,” Vic says. “Leave school, your job, your family.” _Leave me,_ she doesn’t add, can’t make herself say it. 

“I can apply to grad schools next year. A gap year in a different country might look good on a resume for international relations programs. I have enough saved up to pay for lodging and food for several months,” Kaleb says. “And Gabe is my family, was my family.” 

“What about your siblings?” Vic asks. She won’t ask about his mom or dad, knows that Nicole and Nathan are a sore subject for him. 

“They’ll be fine without me,” Kaleb says. “I won’t even be gone for that long. I spent longer away at college and the kids were fine. I just, I can’t stay here. There isn’t anything left for me here.” 

And that part stings, feels like Vic has been burned. “Do what you want,” she says, standing. “I mean, since there’s _nothing left for you here_.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” says Kaleb defensively. 

“That’s literally what you said,” Vic replies. “Do whatever you want,” Vic tells him. She grabs her coat and slips on her shoes. “I don’t care,” she adds, and she slams the door. 

-X- 

June 25th, 2019

 **Kaleb:** He would’ve turned 28 today. I can’t believe it.. 

**Vic:** I know. I can’t believe it either.

 **Vic:** And I’m doing fine. Leo and I are going to a drum circle at the community center. He’s bringing the djembe you got him for his birthday. 

**Kaleb:** I’m glad he likes it!

 **Kaleb:** Just wanted to check in. I know that birthdays are hard. 

**Vic:** We’re doing good. Thanks for checking up on us. 

-X-

Lucas is surprised to see that Battalion Chief Frankel and her wife are sitting in city’s hall’s cafeteria/meeting area when he arrives back from a fire. It’s convenient.

“Mind if I join you guys?” Lucas asks. 

Gia and Frankel tend to eat together semi-frequently, given that they both work in City Hall, although Gia works for the Urban Planning and Development Office. 

“Not at all,” Gia says. “Please sit,” she smiles. 

Deb smiles too, and Lucas settles into a chair at the table. 

“How are you doing?” Gia asks. 

“Good,” Lucas replies. “It’s been a long month, and I’m glad that June is almost over. Imani’s officially out of school, which she’s thrilled about, and Freedom school starts Monday.” 

“I know,” Gia says. “The kids from Freedom School are going to come visit city hall on Thursday.” 

“I didn’t know that,” Lucas says. 

Gia nods. “They’re gonna learn about Seattle demographics, local government, and the process of getting permits for demonstrations and protests.” 

“That sounds like fun,” Lucas says. 

“I had a question for you two, the both of you,” Lucas begins. “I have a date on Friday.” 

“Is our Golden Boy finally getting laid?” Frankel teases. 

Lucas glares at her. “I was wondering if you guys would be willing to pick up Imani after freedom school on Friday and have her spend the night. It ends at 8.” 

“Are you expecting the date to go that well?” Asks Gia. “Damn.” 

Lucas chuckles. “No, but Imani has been begging to spend the night with you and since I’ll be on a date, I figured it would be good to kill two birds with one stone.” 

Gia and Deb share a look. 

“You guys can say no,” Lucas offers quickly. 

“Of course she can come over,” Deb says. 

“Absolutely,” Gia agrees. “We’ll do a movie night or something. And she’s had her braids in for a minute, so she probably needs her hair taken down.”

“You don’t have to. I can take her braids out on Saturday,” Lucas says. “She actually has an appointment on Sunday.” 

“No worries, Luke,” Gia says. “I’ll start them, and if we don’t finish, then you could do the rest of them on Saturday. Enjoy your date.” 

Lucas smiles at the two women. “I will,” he says and he hopes that it will hold true.

-X- 

“I need a favor,” Vic tells her two friends as the three of them sit in the living of Dean’s houseboat. 

“Which is?” 

“I have a date on Friday,” Vic says. 

Jack arches an eyebrow. “With Ripley?” He asks. 

“Maybe,” Vic replies. “Friday is also Parents Night Out for Freedom School. It ends at 8, and I was wondering if one of you could pick Leo up and have him spend the night.” 

“Are you planning on it going _that_ well?” Teases Dean. 

“No,” Vic says. ”But eight is maybe a little early for a date to end and also, Leo has been begging to hang out with you two.” 

“It’s probably because we’re his favorite uncles,” says Dean pridefully. 

“Only because you let him stay up until midnight watching Paw Patrol and let him have cookies for breakfast,” Vic retorts. 

“They were oatmeal cookies,” Jack defends. “With raisins, so it was basically just like eating oatmeal with fruit.” 

“And unnecessary amounts of sugar,” Vic adds. “But can you watch him, and hopefully not give him cookies for breakfast?” 

“Totally,” Jack says. “Although I make no promises about the cookies.” 

Vic laughs. 

“Seriously, though,” Dean says. “You deserve a night out. Enjoy it. And if all else fails, text us and we will call you with a fake emergency.” 

Vic laughs. “I don’t think I need it,” she says and she hopes that it holds true. 

-X-

Vic hasn’t done the whole dating thing in a while, not since Kaleb, and there was no one before Kaleb. There was one guy afterward, a guy Vic met at work named David Mayhorn, and it might’ve worked out. He was kind, charming, funny, and sweet, but he wasn’t the biggest fan of kids, and given that Vic was the single parent to an eighteen month old at the time, it was _kinda_ a dealbreaker. So Vic’s experience with relationships had been limited. One of them had crashed and burned spectacularly, and the second had just well, never really had a spark. 

It is why she was particularly nervous about her date with Lucas, why she keeps twisting her hand around the ring of her keys. Maybe this had all been a mistake. She checks her phone. It is 20 til. There’s still enough time to call off the date if she needed to. Lucas would understand. 

And perhaps that iss the thing. Lucas _would_ understand, and he wouldn’t be angry or disgruntled or entitled. Lucas was a good man, through and through. 

Vic sighs, flags the bartender down for another glass of water. As tempting as the alcohol is, Vic knows that it is a spectacularly bad idea to have a drink (or multiple drinks) before the date actually started, and hydration is key in ensuring Vic does make a fool out of herself. 

Vic waits, sipping her ice water and toying with her keys until finally, she spots him, weaving his way through the sparse crowd. He looks charming, dressed neatly in a pair of skin tight black pants and a white t-shirt. Vic smiles at him and waves him over.

He spots her, grins, and Vic maybe melts a little. 

Lucas walks over easily, and he settles on the bar stool next to her. 

“Did you find the place okay?” Vic asks. 

Lucas nods, looks around. “I did,” he says. “It’s a nice place, quiet,” he adds. 

Vic nods her agreement. The bar she selected isn’t exactly known for being busy, unlike most bars in Seattle on a Friday night. It’s quiet, but it feels nice, homey even. 

Lucas flags down the bartender and orders a beer. 

Vic orders a beer as well. The bar is the only one in Seattle that has her favorite brew on tap. 

“So, tell me about yourself,” Lucas says. It’s cliche, given how much they both know about each other, but Vic appreciates the question nonetheless. 

“I grew up in Carlton, Oregon, which is probably the whitest town there is, as in I’m fairly certain that myself and my siblings made up almost all of the people of color in our town,” Vic says. “Then we moved to Gresham when I was thirteen so that my dad could be closer to work. Uh, I was homeschooled for most of my life, except kindergarten and first grade. I went to the U Dub and I majored in theater performance with a minor in dance and dance education, And I’ve lived in Seattle since then. What about you?” 

“Um, I was born in Australia,” Lucas says. “My Mum was Australian and my Dad was in Australia doing some work for his doctorate. They met, and my Dad decided to stay in Australia and work there after they got married, I have one sister. She’s eight years younger than me. We moved to the US when I was twelve because my paternal grandparents got sick and needed someone to care for them. Uh, I went to college, graduated, and enrolled in the Seattle Fire Academy, which is where I met my best friend and Imani’s father. I got promoted to Battalion Chief about 3 years ago, and I really enjoy my job. That’s really it, I guess.” Lucas pauses. “You said you went to school for theater performance and dance. Do you still do performances?” Lucas asks. 

“I performed for a few years,” Vic says. “But I tore my ACL about three years ago, and then I had Leo. I figured it was better to have a job with stable hours and stable income. Theater can be a really rough field to be in, and I really enjoy being able to set my own hours as a teacher. It means I get to tuck Leo into bed. ” 

“That makes sense,” Lucas says. “When I got promoted to Battalion Chief, I actually ended up working fewer hours than I did as a captain, although there’s a lot more paperwork, and I only have 24 hour shift a week as opposed to either two or three.” 

“How long have you been a firefighter for?” Vic asks. 

“It’ll be fifteen years next month,” Lucas says. “I joined right after I graduated from the University of Washington in Seattle.” 

“What’d you study?” Vic asks. 

“I started off in business at the University of Oregon, and only did that for a semester. Then a recruiter from the Olympia Fire Department came down and gave a presentation that I attended. I decided to change my major, and then my parents passed away, so I moved back to Seattle and went to UDub and got a degree in emergency services management.” 

There’s a lull in the conversation, and Vic thinks back to the list of first date ideas that she had looked up on the internet a few hours prior. “Wanna do twenty questions?” She asks. “We can go back and forth.” 

“Sounds good,” Lucas says. “You can go first.” 

“What’s something I wouldn’t guess about you?” Vic asks. It’s a question that she saw on the internet that she found to be particularly interesting.

“I play guitar,” Lucas replies. “I picked it up in high school, and I’m not the greatest at it, but I really enjoy it. What about you?” 

Vic pauses, trying to think of a response. “I went into college absolutely convinced that I was going to become an environmental scientist,” Vic says finally. “That lasted a few weeks into the semester before I realized I wasn’t a fan of chemistry or biology or science in general. So I changed my major to theater, which was where my passion was. My parents weren’t exactly thrilled, but they cared more that I was happy. Your turn for a question.” 

“What type of music do you like?” Lucas asks. 

“All of it,” Vic replies. “My playlist is a modge podge of everything from country to classical to trap music to showtunes. I don’t think I could pick a favorite genre. What about you?” 

“Mines would have to be rock,” Lucas says. “Although I’ve been listening to nothing but Kids Bop and Radio Disney lately.”

Vic laughs. “I usually listen to kid friendly showtunes when Leo’s in the car. We used to do Hamilton until Leo said bastard at school.” 

“Oh no,” says Lucas, laughing. 

“It could’ve been worse,” Vic says. “Right now, Leo’s really into The Lion King soundtrack from the Broadway performances. So that’s usually what we end up jamming to.” She smiles. “Okay, let’s see, what’s the last book that you read for fun?” 

Lucas pauses . “I don’t have a ton of time for leisure reading, but I did get into The Dinner by Herman Koch. It was really interesting, even if I did have to sleep with the light on for that following week.” 

They both laugh. 

“What about you?” Lucas asks.

“My siblings and I have a ‘book club,’ so each of us chooses a book and then we read it and discuss it in our group chat. So the last book I read was The Leavers by Lisa Ko, which was really good. My little sister picked it.” 

“What’s it about?” Lucas asks. 

“It’s about a undocumented Chinese woman who gets deported and ends up leaving her son behind,” Vic explains. “He gets adopted by a white family, and the story is about him growing up and searching for his mom. It’s a really great book, definitely one of the best I’ve read.” 

Lucas doesn’t press for further details or ask Vic to relate it to her own experience, and for that, Vic is grateful. 

“So, my turn I guess,” Lucas says. “On the same vein of books, what was your favorite book as a kid?” 

“Mine had to be The Very Lonely Firefly by Eric Carle,” Vic says. “It came out a few years after I was born, and I loved it.” 

“When were you born?” Lucas asks. 

“They say you should never ask a woman her age,” Vic teases. “But I’m 26, so I was born in ‘92. I turn 27 in September. What about you?” 

Lucas chuckles. “I was born in ‘81, and I turn 38 in November. I’m old,” he says. He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “And as such, my favorite book Possum Magic, which came out in ‘83. It was a really good book, and I still have like 3 copies in my house.”

Vic smiles at Lucas “I’ll have to check it out,” she says. “My turn. Are you a morning person or a night owl?” 

“Morning person,” Lucas replies instantly. “It’s almost a requirement of the job. But I actually do enjoy being up in the mornings, and I wake up at 6 even on my days off.” 

“That sounds awful,” Vic says. 

“So you’re not a morning person?” Asks Lucas. 

“Nope, no,” Vic says. “I am most definitely a night owl, which totally helps when you’re a single parent of a baby with day-night confusion.” 

“That sounds awful,” Lucas says, and he seems genuinely sympathetic. “Imani was sleeping through the night when she came to live with me. She was pretty easy to get to bed, except for that one week when she lost her stuffy. That week was miserable.” 

“I know the feeling,” Vic says. “Leo is going through a phase where he will only sleep if he has this one stupid blanket that my mom made him. It’s a nightmare to pry it away from him to wash.” Vic laughs. 

As they chatted, the bar has gotten steadily louder. Vic had forgotten about the Women’s World Cup Games that were still going on.

“We should probably head out,” Lucas says, volume higher than it’s been all evening. “It’s a little hard to have a conversation.” 

Vic is thoughtful for a moment. She checks her watch. Parent’s night doesn’t end for another hour and a half. They have time. “My place is around the corner,” Vic says.

Lucas looks surprised. 

“I’m just saying it’s close,” Vic adds quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply… I just, I mean it’s so close.”

“No, no,” Lucas says. “That’d be nice. Just a little conversation.” 

“But you know, I don’t know, if we did wanna sit or anything, conversation could also happen there, at my place,” Vic adds, fully aware that she’s rambling and being awkward. 

“Conversation _could_ happen there?” Lucas says, and Vic notices the undercurrent to his voice. 

Vic grins, then very obviously checks him out. “Unless you think it’s a bad idea,” she teases. 

Lucas smirks back. 

The two of them exit the bar, which, true to Vic’s word, is only two blocks from her apartment. Their pace is leisurely, and they make menial small talk as they go, although Vic is sure that Lucas can feel the undercurrent of tension as they walk. 

Vic’s apartment is spectacularly clean. She has a toddler and she wasn’t exactly expecting to bring back a house guest when she and Leo had left in a hurry earlier that morning. 

Leo’s Hot Wheelz car is in the middle of the doorway, almost causing Lucas to slip as he enters the door. 

Vic blushes. “I told Leo to pick his cars up before we left,” she offers. 

Lucas laughs. “It’s fine,” he says. “If I had a dollar for every time I stepped on one of Imani’s Legos, I might have enough to afford a housekeeper.” Lucas’s eyes are bright blue, and maybe Vic is feeling spontaneous. Tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

The two of them stand there, the air charged like it is when is on stage in the seconds before the music begins. 

Vic steps forward, grinning, and she presses a kiss to the corner of Lucas’s mouth. Lucas turns and deepens the kiss.

It feels like electricity, like fire. It feels like pushing the first domino and watching everything fall into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cinema sins voice* roll credits 
> 
> jk jk. This story is far from over. 
> 
> Not too many sources from this chapter. Actually, there's really only one. Kaleb's comment about a search angel came from something I found out when I read **The Child Catchers: Rescue, Trafficking, and the New Gospel of Adoption** by Kathryn Joyce. Apparently, there are many organizations in Ethiopia, both non profit and for profit alike that work to help adopted Ethiopians find their birth families.
> 
> Also **The Leavers** by Lisa Ko is a true gift to mankind. I read it while I was in Ecuador and devoured it in about three days. An absolutely literary masterpiece that left me in tears. 
> 
> Anyway, please comment, hoped you liked this chapter


	7. In Which There Is A Lot Of Leaving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh, so, if you've ever seen This Is Us (which I _hate_ but that's beside the point) you know that a lot of their storytelling relies on flashbacks to create a storyline and explain situations. I kinda love that, so there will be parts of this story that will have flashbacks. In particular, there is one at the beginning here and at the end. As the title insinuates, there is a substantial amount of leaving in this chapter.
> 
> Also, this chapter is shorter than the others and I'm sorry! I just felt I was at a good stopping point.
> 
>  
> 
> **IMPORTANT: For those of you who didn't attend a Christian private school for the first 10 years of their school career (or who didn't attend church regularly.) The story referenced here is the story of Moses. Basically, the Israelites were sold into slavery in Egypt. Pharaoh became worried about the Israelite men becoming too strong and numerous and overtaking the Egyptians, so he decreed that every Israeli baby boy be killed. Moses's mother gave birth to him and then hid him for three months. She then placed him in a basket in a river to prevent him from being found. His sister kept an eye on him, and he somehow ended up in the area where Pharaoh's daughter bathes. Pharaoh's daughter adopts Moses (and Moses's natural mother is his nursemaid.) And then Moses comes back later and frees his people and begins to guide them to the promise land (there's some other juicy stuff in there, but the story starts at the tale end of Exodus 1.)**
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings: None, except for the N-word being used (in a reclaimed context during a song).

“This story is dumb,” Enrique announces to the table. He looks up from his Bible. 

Everyone looks up, even Hannah and Gabby, who are supposed to be doing physical science and language arts, respectively.

[It’s the last “class” of the day, and Vicky would rather Enrique not interrupt their slow and tedious progress through the book of Exodus. Vicky is ready for school to end, and she wishes that she was still in 5th grade, so that she could be finished with school earlier. (Isaiah is already done with school for the day, and Vicky would love nothing more than to join her brother playing video games in the playroom, but she can’t do that unless she and Enrique both finish their reading.)] 

They’re reading out loud, something that is supposed to help with reading comprehension, but Vicky would rather read quietly. She reads faster that way.

“Henry,” Mom says softly. “This is God’s Word you’re talking about. It’s not dumb.” 

“Fine then,” Enrique says. “Moses’s Mom is dumb. And this story is hard to read.” 

(Vicky has to agree with that. Mom says they’re old enough to read the King James Version of the Bible and it’s hard enough for Vicky to read. (It’s probably worse for Enrique, who hates reading. Mom says it’s because he has something called language processing disorder, and Enrique says it’s because he knows how to read, reading is easy. Enrique just can’t make the words make sense in his head.)

“Moses’s Mom is not dumb,” says Mom gently. “She had to make a very hard choice to save Moses’s life.” 

“She still left him,” yells Enrique bitterly. “She put him in a river! He could’ve drowned!

“Henry,” Mom says in a warning tone. 

(They’re not supposed to yell inside the house. Everyone knows this.) 

“She just abandoned him,” Enrique says, lowering his voice.

“She had to make a choice because she loved him,” says Mom. 

“And everyone knows that when you love someone, you leave them,” Enrique replies, and Vicky knows that he’s being sarcastic. 

“Henry,” Mom says. “We talked about this.”

Henry stares at Mom. 

“Can I be excused?” Hannah interrupts. “I finished my physical science.” 

“Yes, you may,” Mom says. 

“Me too,” Gabby asks. “I’m done.” 

Mom nods her approval. 

Enrique is still quietly fuming. (Once, when Mom wasn’t looking, Vicky snuck into Mom’s office to find her adoption paperwork. She didn’t actually end up finding it, but Vicky did find notes from the therapist that Mom made everyone see at least once a month. She knew she wasn’t supposed to read stuff like that, because it was private, but Vicky couldn’t help herself. Ms. Beth described Enrique as having an explosive temper, and Vicky can understand why.) She should probably leave the table too, like her siblings, but she sits, as if she’s glued to her chair. 

“You don’t leave people you love!” Enrique yells. “You don’t throw them away like they’re trash and say that’s what’s best for them!” 

“Enrique,” Mom says again, this time her tone is soft and calm. 

“Moses’s Mom is dumb!” Enrique yells, and he takes his Bible and throws it across the living room. 

Surprisingly, Mom doesn’t react. “Enrique,” she says softly. “I know that you feel upset.” 

“I’m not upset!” Enrique yells. “Moses’s Mom left him and my mom left me and you say that it’s because our moms loved us, but if that’s true, then why haven’t you left me? Do you not love me as much as my _real_ Mom did?” 

Mom’s mouth opens and then closes again. Opens, then closes again. 

(Enrique had figured out, only a few weeks prior, that the same words that the bullies used to tease them on the playground also worked for winning arguments with mom. Using the world “real” with regards to family, never failed to make Mom speechless. Vicky knew it probably also made Mom sad.)

Enrique stands and grabs his cane off the floor. He still looks angry.

“Where are you going?” Mom asks. 

“I’m leaving because I love you,” Enrique says.

-X-

Victoria wakes the shower running and her phone playing the opening lyrics of Alexander Hamilton. 

“Shit,” Vic mumbles, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and fumbling blindly for her phone. 

She hits something solid, and her phone goes flying off the bed, thankfully landing on her carpeted floor. Vic huffs and then reaches for her phone. She grabs it and checks the time. 

It’s 8:55. 

“Shit,” Vic repeats. She had told Jack and Dean that she was going to pick Leo up at 9am. Vic gives a long glance toward the bathroom door, where Lucas is surely in there showering. She could wait, or maybe knock on the door and try to explain. _It isn’t like she hasn’t seen him naked_ , she reasons. Or she could leave and not make things awkward. Leo would be antsy if he woke up and Vic wasn’t there. 

Vic leaps out of bed and rushes over to her dresser. She grabs a pair of underwear and then tosses on a t-shirt. She’ll have to shower when she gets home, which means putting Leo in front of the television with Skye and Marshall (or perhaps any tv show that isn’t Paw Patrol, because Vic is sick of Paw Patrol.) 

Vic huffs and tugs on her clothes. She knows that she should _probably_ say something to Ripley, but Vic also knows that she needs to make the fifteen minute drive from her apartment to Dean’s house. Besides, Vic isn’t sure that she’s completely ready to address what happened last night. She typically doesn’t do sex on the first date. (Not that she’s had very many first dates.) 

Vic sighs, contemplated talking to Lucas for just another moment, decided against it, opens the door, and carefully sneaks out of her own apartment. 

She quickly walks to her car, unlocks it, gets it, and then finally breathes a sigh of relief. 

Mentally, Vic realizes that Lucas will probably have to grab his car once he gets out of the shower, but Vic is trying not to dwell on that, or on Lucas at all. 

She sighs, then starts her car. 

Her phone connects to the vehicle automatically. She’s been listening to Isaiah’s Spotify playlist, and so the music roars to life as she starts her car. 

_Aye, we’ve good thing_  
Don’t know if I’ma see you again  
But is that a good thing?  
‘Cause girl I can’t be your man, no ma’am  
I know what’s on your brain  
You probably hoped it would never would end  
Like, “Is it the real thing  
Or is just a one night stand?”  
Well then 

Vic groans as the J. Cole song blasts through her speakers. She adjusts the volume and then skips the song. She does not need a reminder of one night stands right now. 

_Boy,_  
Oh, killin’ me softly, and I’m still fallin’  
Still the one I need, I will always be with you  
Whoa, you got me all gone, don’t ever let me go  
Say it real loud if you leave me, you outta your mind 

“Isaiah, what the fuck?” Vic grumbles to her car as she pulls out onto the road. (She knows she’s being irrational. It’s not her brother’s fault that 90% of his playlist has to do with romance.) She skips that song too. 

_Man, there ain’t no sense in playing with these niggas man_  
Go in there and give ‘em the business, flush him out  
And we gon’ turn up in this bitch tonight, hard for  
Luca Brasi nigga 

_It’s a few wrong ways and they don’t make a right_  
You can do both ways, ignorin’ wrong and the right  
New boyfriend, whom she don’t seem to like  
Stay right here, it’s him you won’t see tonight  
Argumentative but say she won’t compromise  
Women say they love but never more than eyes  
Mistakin’ it for trust, starin’ right in the eyes  
Women say they love but never more than the eyes  
You the only one that my dick could get hard for  
I’m confused, what the fuck you want my heart for  
You the only one that my dick could get hard for  
I’ve been misused, what the fuck you want my heart for 

“Hey Siri,” Vic nearly shouts. 

“Hello there,” Siri responds. 

“Play The Hamilton Mixtape,” Vic begs. 

“Playing The Hamilton Mixtape by Various Artists,” Siri responds, and a moment later “My Shot” is coming through Vic’s speakers. 

Vic relaxes slightly as she continues the familiar drive to Dean and Jack’s boathouse. 

She decidely doesn’t think about the fact that she just had a date that ended in sex or the fact that she snuck out of her _own_ apartment while Lucas was in the shower, or the additional fact that she has absolutely no idea what this means for their relationship, if there is one. Vic also doesn’t think about the fact that Lucas would probably be panicked if he came out of the shower and found out that she left. She also doesn’t think about the fact that this relationship has become inextricably more complicated when you factor in Imani (who is sweet and precious and who Vic really enjoys spending time with and who probably knows that there’s something going on between Lucas and Vic) and Leo (who is just as sweet and precious, if a bit clueless about what the adults in his life or doing.) Vic thinks about none of this on the drive over. (She thinks about all of it, but she tries to distract herself from her thoughts by singing along to the remix of Dear Theodosia. It doesn’t actually work.)

She arrives at Dean’s house fifteen minutes later, and then she parks her vehicle in the lot and walks toward Dean’s apartment. 

She knocks, and the door swings open a moment later the door swings open. 

Jack is standing in the kitchen, making pancakes and, by the smell of it, they were chocolate chip. 

“See,” Dean says as Vic enters the house. “We’re giving Leo a healthy breakfast.” 

“We even brought strawberries!” Announces Jack proudly, gesturing to a container on the counter. 

Vic laughs, and then she walks toward the counter to grab one. 

“Okay rewind,” Says Dean. “Back it up and come back in again because I’m pretty sure I just spotted some _swagger_. Is that what I’m seeing? Do you have the swagger this morning?” He teases.

“Nope, nope, no swagger,” Vic says, popping a strawberry into her mouth. 

“Did you get laid last night?” Dean teases. 

Vic feels her face go hot. “Is Leo still sleeping?” She asks, ignoring the question. She steps toward the bedroom and peaks inside. 

Jack nods. “He’s still out like a light.” 

Vic can see as much. He’s sprawled out on the bed, probably drooling on the pillow, blissfully unaware. He looks so much younger when he sleeps, and Vic takes a moment to stare at her little guy who is growing like a weed and will be starting pre-school before Vic knows it.

“What time did he go to bed?” Vic asks as she shuts the door softly.

Dean shrugs and look sheepish. 

“Some time after he drank Dean’s Mountain Dew but before the sun came up,” Jack replies. 

“You gave my kid caffeine?” Vic asks, turning to Dean.. 

“It was like, this much,” Dean says, using his fingers to describe how much Mountain Dew Leo had had. “And it was an accident. And I think he went to bed at like, 2:30,” Dean continues. “He should be up soon. Kids need like, eight hours, right?”

“Remind me not to let you two babysit again,” Vic says. “And most toddlers, including Leo, will usually sleep for between 10 and 12 hours.”

Both Jack and Dean laugh. It’s an empty threat. Leo loves being babysat by Jack and Dean, and Vic is in no rush to get rid of people willing to deal with her mischievous toddler. 

Jack flips another pancake onto the plate. “We should eat these before they get cold,” he says.. “I’ll save some batter for when Leo finally gets up. Jack places a lid on the pancake mix and then places it in the fridge. 

The alarm on someone’s phone goes off. It’s Dean’s. “That’s my cue to go,” he says, shoving the remainder of his pancake in his mouth. “See you later, Vic,” he says. “Bye, Jack.” 

Dean leaves out the front door. 

“He has a date,” Jack says, placing a plate of pancakes in front of Vic. “He and Nikki are going hiking, I think..” 

Vic hums and then begins pouring syrup over her pancakes. “Did Leo behave?” She asks. 

“Always,” Jack answers. “Even after the Mountain Dew.” 

Jack settles across the table from Vic, and the two of them eat in silence for a moment. 

“I need your advice,” Vic blurts. “Your perspective on something.”

Jack arches an eyebrow. “Well, you’re in luck, I dispense excellent advice. People underestimate that about me.”

“Let’s say that, hypothetically speaking, if someone were to have an adult sleepover with you,” Vic begins. 

“Oof,” says Jack. “That kind of advice.” 

Vic rolls her eyes. “And then the next morning, while you were in the shower, that someone snuck out.”

“So you don’t like the guy very much.” 

“I didn’t say this was me,” Vic interrupts. “This is hypothetical.”

Jack eyes Vic skeptically. 

Vic squirms. 

“Okay, then it sounds like ‘Mr. Hypothetical’ got out of the shower and assumed you don’t like him very much,” Jack reiterates.. 

“It’s not that,” Vic responds. “I mean, I don’t know if I want a relationship or not, and I wasn’t even thinking about that. I was thinking about coming to get Leo on time and how anything with him gets complicated, especially when you know kids into mix and I don’t know. I told you the situation. Now it’s your turn, advice machine. Dispense.” 

“Sneaking out is what you do when you leave the scene of the crime,” Jack says. “You can’t run forever. Eventually, you’re going to have to talk to the guy,” Jack says. “Or text him, or whatever it is Millenials do these days. Just, and I know this is hard, but try to get out of the mindset that the people who love you are going to leave. Give him a call. See where it goes and if it does go anywhere, try to be in the moment. I know from experience that nothing good ever happens if you jump into a relationship with foot out of the door.”

Vic smiles at Jack. “Thanks,” she says, and she honestly means it. “That was actually pretty solid advice. I have a lot to think about, I guess.”

“So, I take it the date with Ripley went well?” Jack asks, his tone light and teasing. 

Vic places her head into her palm and sighs. “I’m sure that you don’t want to hear about your boss’s boss’s sex life,” she says. “Although, if you do…” Vic raises both of her eyebrows. 

Jack cringes and Vic laughs. She thought so. 

-X-

It’s late when he gets back home. 

Lucas has been at the hospital all day, and he’s exhausted. They were concerned about infection from Imani’s leg, but her fever ending up breaking, and Lucas feels relieved in a way that he hasn;t in a while. 

Eva is sitting at the table when he walks in. 

“I didn’t realize you were still up,” Lucas says. 

“We need to talk,” comes Eva’s measured response. 

Lucas surveys the den, and that’s how he spots the suitcase and the duffel bag in the corner. 

“Eva,” says Lucas slowly, the realization dawning on him.

“I’m moving out,” Eva says. Her tone is clipped, tight, in the same it gets when she and Lucas are arguing and Eva is trying not to let her emotions poke through.

“I, What? Why?” Lucas asks, trying to gather his bearings. He’s confused. Things have been bad. There’s no doubt about that. He and Eva have been arguing near constantly, to the point that Lucas knows that this isn’t normal, not even for newlyweds, especially not for newlyweds.

“Because this isn’t working, Lucas,” Eva replies. “Our marriage is falling apart. We barely see each other, barely speak to each other when we do, and when we do speak to each other, we argue. We cannot and should not bring a child into this.” 

 

“We can make this work,” Lucas says, his tone bordering on desperate. They could make this work. They have to. . “We can fix this before Imani comes home. We can, I’ll go to marriage counseling. I’ll figure out how to cut back on work. I’ll-“ 

“Lucas, please,” Eva cuts him off, and Lucas looks at her, really looks at her, and notices that her eyes are filled with tears. “I don’t want kids. I never wanted kids. And you were okay with this when you married. And I understand, Luke, I understand completely that your priorities have changed, and I would never ask you, not for a second, to choose between me and Imani. But I can’t be a mom, Lucas. I can’t.” Eva wipes furiously at her eyes, but the tears keep falling. Lucas wants to reach out, comfort her, but his feet are frozen in place. “And after all that little girl has lost: her parents, her leg, she deserves the world. She doesn’t deserve this train wreck of a marriage. She doesn’t deserve someone who can’t be completely and totally devoted to her. Luke, she deserves a Dad like you, but she doesn’t deserve a Mom like me.” Eva is crying in earnest now. 

“Eva, please,” Lucas begs. A tear slips down his cheek and lands on his shirt. He didn’t realize that he was crying too. 

Eva stares at him, her eyes soft and gentle and Lucas realizes that Eva is hurting too, and his heart shatters into a million pieces.

“I can’t,” Eva says. “I love you, Lucas, I do. But we rushed into this. We weren’t prepared to be married to each other, and it’s taken a toll on the both of us. We can’t bring a child into this, not one that’s already experienced so much loss in her life. We can’t bring Imani into this marriage only for us to get a divorce and for another adult in her life to leave.”

Lucas swallows, understands perfectly what Eva is trying to say. It doesn’t make it hurt any less. He breathes deeply, forces himself to speak. “Okay,” He says, voice barely above a whisper. 

He’s close enough to Eva to touch her, and he does, reaching out with gentle hands to wipe her tears. 

“I’m sorry, Lucas,” Eva says, and Lucas knows that she means it. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Me too,” Lucas replies. The two of them stand like that for a long moment, letting their words hang in the air. 

Finally, Eva pulls back, and she reaches down and grabs her bag. 

“Goodbye, Lucas,” she says. 

And somehow, Lucas knows that this is the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really struggled with writing that last scene, mainly because I didn't want Eva to seem like a bitch. I like to think that this wasn't a decision she made lightly. She agonized over it for hours and probably spent many days and nights crying (in bed and in the shower) over it. Ultimately, she made a choice that was probably for the best in the long run, and I don't think it necessarily makes her a bad person.
> 
> If anyone cares, the three songs that Vic hears in the car are Work Out by J. Cole, Countdown by Beyonce, and Hard For by Kevin Gates (which is lowkey my favorite rap song).  
> Also, I don't know how to describe Enrique's disorder. It's a language disorder that can affect the processing of spoken and written language. I tutored a kid with it, and he described it as being able to read in a different language, but not really understand what the words meant. He read really well and actually quite quickly (because he would have to reread passages 2 and 3 times to understand them) it was processing the words that was difficult for him. 
> 
> He attended a Christian school and actually got permission to read the NIV and ESV versions of the Bible because comprehending the KJV was so difficult for him. 
> 
> Sources 
> 
> Articles:  
> Adopted Adults and Relationships – How Are They Affected? via Considering Adoption  
> Love Through the Eyes of An Adoptee by Becky Mathis-Stump via Michelle Madrid Branch  
> Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, Adoptees' Worst Fear Will Likely Come True by Ben Acheson via The Huffington Post
> 
> The next chapter will include Lucas's reaction to everything and also fluff because I love fluff.


	8. In Which There Are Conversations (Again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all know the drill by now: I’m not the biggest fan of this chapter as a whole. But one part of this chapter is in my top 5 favorite things I’ve ever written. 
> 
> Uhhh, this probably wasn’t edited well so if anything is confusing, lemme know. My computer has been doing some wonky shit when I try to edit and loves to cut and paste so I had to edit on my phone (which never goes well.) so please let me know if something is confusing. 
> 
> Warnings: Triggers for the use of the N slur (in reclaimed contexts)

"Hey princess," Lucas says, pawing gently at his daughter's hands. "Don't scratch, it'll make it worse." 

Imani looks at him curiously. Her eczema has been flaring up lately, and Lucas doesn't know what to do. Telling her not to scratch didn;t seem to help, probably because it was impossible to reason with a two year old. 

Imani keeps scratching, so Lucas grabs hold of both her little hands. 

"No more scratching," he says. "Eat your hotdog princess." 

They're at the annual Seattle fire department picnic, and Lucas is sitting on a blanket in the grass. A handful of his subordinates have come to talk to him, but most of them have kept their distance. Lucas gets it. He hadn’t been too keen on hanging out with the boss either, but it’s his first year being the boss at one of these functions and he feels alone, moreso as he watches the other kids play. 

Lucas hadn’t ever noticed how few people of color were in the Seattle Fire Department until he had Imani, but now he sees the lack of diversity everywhere. Almost all of the kids playing are white, the exception being Lee's twelve year old daughter. 

The few people of color that they have in the department are young, too young to have families, except for Sully. Sully _had_ a family. 

Imani tries desperately to free her hands and Lucas sighs and releases them. 

Imani breathes out along sigh as she scratches. 

"Alright, kid, that's enough," he says. He grabs her hands again and she whines. 

"She got eczema?" A voice says. 

Lucas looks up to see a tall Black woman standing over him. 

"Yeah," Lucas answers. "Won't stop scratching and it makes everything worse. We tried calamine lotion and that steroid cream like the doctor said, but it does nothing." 

"My brothers and I had it real bad when we were kids," says the woman. "My momma used to say that my pediatrician didn't know anything, and that their fancy lotions had nothing on the stuff that's been working for centuries." 

Lucas tilts his head curiously. "I'm willing to try anything," he says. "I'm desperate at this point, and Imani is in pain." 

"Take some cocoa butter, coconut oil, Vitamin E oil and jojoba oil," the woman says. "Mix it together and put it on her flare ups immediately after she takes a bath. It’ll help her skin retain moisture. And when you dry her off, use of one those soft baby cloths and pat instead of rub. It works like a charm." 

"Where do I find that, the uh, oils and stuff?" Asks Lucas. 

"You can find that at any superstore," says the woman. "But if you want the good stuff, I'd go to the hair store on Reed St." 

"Thanks," Lucas says. "I'll have to try that." He pauses. "I didn't catch your name." 

"Georgia Frankel-Houser," she says. "Most people call me Gia, though."

Lucas looks up, furrows his eyebrows. "You're Frankel's partner?"

Gia smiles, nods. 

"It's nice to meet you," Lucas says. "I'll have to try that." 

"She's your daughter?" Gia asks. 

Lucas nods. 

"How long have you been raising her?" 

Lucas frowns, bites his lip to keep himself grounded. 

"Six months," he answers. "Her father was the firefighter who died in that car accident a few months back, and her mother died in the same accident. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” says Gia gently. 

Lucas smiles softly. “Thanks,” he says. 

“Here’s my business card,” Gia says. She hands him a small card, which reads Georgia Houser, Assistant Director of Urban Development and Planning. “Let me know if you need anything or if you have questions. I hope your little one’s eczema stops flaring up.”

“Thanks,” Lucas says. He smiles genuinely for the first time in what felt like forever. 

Gia smiles back, and then she disappears as quickly and as smoothly as she came. 

-X- 

He walks out of the bathroom to find Victoria’s room empty. 

“Victoria,” he calls out softly, curiously, wondering if she’s perhaps in the living room or the dining room or the kitchen.

Her clothes have mysterious vanished from the floor, and the house is almost completely silent. 

Now, Lucas Ripley is a rational person. (He has sixteen years of peer reviews and evaluations that can confirm that.) He’s a rational person and he doesn’t jump to the worst possible conclusion. Instead, he makes educated guesses based on the evidence presented to him. 

It’s why he doesn’t automatically assume that Victoria has been kidnapped or murdered. It’s why his first thought is that she left him. It’s the most logical reasoning, based on Lucas’s past relationships and the fact that Victoria’s apartment is empty. She left him. It’s the most logical explanation, the most rational one, and yet that doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

-X- 

Gia opens the door when Lucas knocks. 

She takes one look at him and frowns. “I take it the date didn’t go well,” she says. 

Lucas peers past her, trying to see if Imani was nearby. 

“Imani’s in the basement playing some video game with Deb.” Gia says as if she had read his mind. “They’ve got the headphones on and everything. The whole nine yards.”

“The date went well, I think,” says Lucas as he steps into the house. “I mean, it started off well, and it was fine, and then we had sex last night, and again this morning, and then I took a shower and uh, I came out, and she was gone,” Lucas rambles.

Grace takes one look at him and smiles gently. "It sounds to me like your date didn't go well," saysGia. 

"I thought it went well," Lucas says, but now he’s skeptical. 

"She snuck out of her own apartment?" Gia prods. 

"Yes, she did," Lucas replies. "I fucked up, didn't I?" Lucas asks. “She hates me and I probably ruined things for good and there's gonna be another person that's going to leave Imani and she will be crushed and I’m a terrible dad and that's awful and -" 

"Holy shit, Lucas," Gia says. "Please don’t spiral. It isn’t attractive. It's literally one date that maybe didn’t go well. And there could be any number of reasons why she left. Maybe she had to go pick up her kid. Maybe she doesn’t like people using her shower. Maybe she had some other emergency and needed to leave. It might not even be your fault." 

"What if it is?" Lucas asks. "What if ti is my fault?" 

"Then you fucked up,” Gia answers honestly. “And it’s okay. We all suck at relationships at times. Did you know the first time that Deb and I had sex, she left? She was a baby gay, just out of her grandparents homophobic, shitty house, and it freaked her out. You said your girl's a single mom, right? And her kid is three?”

Lucas nods. 

"Maybe it's her first relationship since she and her kid’s dad broke up," Gia says. "First relationships after one that fell apart are always hard, Lucas." 

"What do I do?" Lucas asks. 

"Call her," Gia responds. 

Lucas pulls out his phone. 

"Not now." Gia says. "Now, you're gonna take Imani to the hair store, let her pick out some hair, go to the park, get your mind off things. Call her around 7 o'clock, say you just wanted to make sure that she and her kid were okay since she left so abruptly. It gives her an out. If it seems to be going well, invite her to grab coffee while Imani gets her hair done and then the two of you can chat about the future of your relationship.” 

"What did I do to deserve you?' Lucas asks softly. 

Gia flips her hair. "I don't know, but I wanna know what God I pissed off to get stuck with you." 

Lucas laughs. 

-X-

Rock My Style has to be Imani’s favorite place in the world. She’s practically vibrating with excitement when Dad pulls into a parking space.

“Do you have your hair?” Dad asks as he unbuckles his seatbelt 

Imani nods. She’s getting Senegalese twists this time, and some of them are bright purple. 

“Alright, kiddo, lets go,” Dad says. 

Imani unbuckles her own seatbelt and grabs her hair.

Dad opens the door and Imani steps inside. 

“I’m just saying, now that Barr is running for city council, he’s- Hey Imani!” Ms. Jasmine says. She smiles. 

“Good morning,” Imani says brightly. Imani closes her eyes for just a second, lets the scent of coconut oil and shampoo and styling gel wash over her, hears the sway of the music that’s bubbling quietly from the speaker. 

Ms. Jasmine already has someone in her chair, per usual, and it looks like the woman in the chair is getting weave, although Ms. Jasmine seems close to being finished.

Ms. Coco is doing crochets, and she hums along to the music as she does so. 

Ms. Athena is giving a woman a fade, and the two of them are chatting animatedly. 

And Avery, Ms. Jasmine’s daughter, is rinsing out the sink. 

Nia, Imani’s best friend, hates sitting to get her hair done. Imani gets why, box braids or twists can take like 7 hours, and Nia’s hair is _thick_ , thicker than even Imani’s. Imani, however, loves how long it takes. She likes feeling the pull and twist of her hair and enjoys the fact that in eight hours, her hair looks completely transformed. 

She loves how gentle Ms. Jasmine is, how she takes the time to carefully comb out Imani’s hair, how her gentle hands braid Imani’s hair tightly, how she smells like cocoa butter and how she sings along to Beyoncé and Mary Mary And Rihanna. 

Mostly though, Imani loves the people. It’s something she can’t really put into words. She likes learning about the mayor and the people on city council and the people who work downtown at city hall just like Dad and Aunt Gia and Aunt Deb, she likes hearing about the things going on in the Black community, she even likes hearing the gossip. And Imani loves that the people in the salon really care about her. 

They ask her how school is going, if her teachers are treating her fairly, what her favorite subject is, if she’s got friends, or if anyone is bullying her. She loves the care that she gets from the community. 

“Hey Mama,” says Ms. Jasmine. “I heard you’re getting Senegalese twists.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Imani says. She beams. 

“How ‘bout you go sit in the washing chair and Avery will wash and condition you, hm?” Says Ms. Jasmine. 

Imani nods. “Okay,” she says brightly. She loves when Avery shampoos and conditions her hair. Avery’s in college now, so she’s usually only home for breaks, but Avery is gentle with Imani’s hair and is careful to evenly distribute the shampoo and conditioner. Plus, Avery gives the best head massages. 

Avery grins as she walks over to Imani. Avery looks _just_ like her mom, something that makes Imani the slightest bit jealous. It’s not that Imani doesn’t love her dad,she loves him more than she has vocabulary to express, it’s just that Imani wonders what it would be like to wake up every morning and have your pancakes made by someone with your nose and the same colored eyes. Imani knows that she looks like both of her first parents. Their pictures are up in her room, by her bed. She’s got her first dad’s nose and her first mom’s eyes. 

“You ready Mama?” Avery asks. 

Imani nods. 

“You’re looking good, Chief,” calls out Ms. Coco.

Imani doesn’t have to turn around to know that Dad is blushing.

“You got a date?” Ms. Athena asks. 

“Uhhh....” Dad doesn’t answer. 

Imani turns to stare at Dad, who avoids her eyes. 

So he _does_ have a date.

“I, uh, how long should Imani’s hair take?” Dad asks, avoiding the question entirely.

“Should be about five or six hours,” Ms. Jasmine answers. “I’ll have Imani message you when I’m about done. Mama’s got a lot of hair.” 

“Mhmm,” agrees Avery as she gently tugs the pony tail holder from Imani’s hair. 

“I’ll see you then,” Dad says. 

Imani waves. “Bye Dad! Love you!” She calls. 

“Love you too, kiddo,” Dad says. 

“Awwww,” coos Ms. Coco. 

Dad smiles, blushes a little redder. He turns to the door. 

“Enjoy your date,” calls out Ms. Athena. 

Dad chuckles as he leaves. 

“How you doin’, Mama?” Avery asks. 

“Good,” Imani answers. 

“Lemme know if the water’s too hot,” Avery says. 

Imani lays back and Avery makes quick work of washing Imani’s hair. She uses to coats of shampoo and then she gently and thoroughly works the conditioner through Imani’s hair. 

“‘A’ight,” says Avery as she gently helps Imani sit up. She wraps Imani’s hair in a cotton cloth. 

“Let’s go sit in the chair,” says Avery. 

Imani walks over to the chair and sits down and then Avery grabs the comb. 

“Avery,” says Ms. Coco. 

“Yes ma’am,” replies Avery. She gently tugs the comb through Imani’s hair. 

“You still dating that one guys, what’s his name? Uh, Maxim, Marcus, Mathew?”

“Matthias,” Avery corrects. “And no ma’am, we broke up.” 

“Why?” Ms. Coco asks. 

“He cheated,” Avery answers, calm and measured. 

“I’ll tell you what,” says Ms. Athena. “Negroes ain’t sh-“ she pauses and then eyes Imani. “Crap,” she finishes. 

Avery laughs. 

“She don’t need no man until she graduates,” says Ms. Jasmine. 

“Mooom,” whines Avery. 

“She’s right,” says the woman in Ms. Coco’s chair. “You better get your education, baby girl, cuz like Athena said, ‘Negroes ain’t crap.’”

(Imani first heard the N-word when she was 5 years old. She was in pre-school, at her old school, and one of the big kids had said it to her because she didn’t wanna give up the swing at recess. The principal had called Dad afterward, and Dad had explained sat her down and explained the history of the N-word and why it was a very, very bad word. Imani had cried. 

When someone at the ship had used the word a few weeks later, Imani’s jaw had dropped wide open. 

“That’s a bad word,” Imani had said. “My Daddy says that racist people use it.” 

The entire shop had gone oddly quiet. 

“You’re right,” Ms. Jasmine said. “It is a bad word, and racist people do use it. But, sometimes Black people use that word.” 

“Why?” Imani had asked. 

“Because words are very powerful, Mama,” Ms. Jasmine had explained. “And that word has been used to hurt people that look like you and me. When Black folks use it, we’re doing something called reclaiming it. That means that we’re taking that big, ugly word, and we’re giving it a different meaning. Most Black people have been called that word in a negative way, and when we use it to talk to other Black people, we are telling them we understand that shared experience and that we are part of a community. Does that make sense, Mama?” 

“I guess,” Imani had responded. “Do I _have_ to start using it?” 

“No, baby,” said Ms. Jasmine quickly. “You don’t have to, and I don’t think you even should until you’re a little older and can grasp exactly what reclaiming something means. And if you don’t want us to use it around you, we won’t. Would you like us to stop?” 

Imani paused thoughtfully. “No,” she answered finally. “It’s okay. I think I understand.”)

“You getting good grades?” Asks the lady in Ms. Coco’s chair.

“Yes ma’am,” Avery responds. “Got a 4.0 last semester. 

“You go girl! And what about you Lil Mama?” Asks the woman in Ms. Coco’s chair. “You doing well in school?” 

“Yes ma’am,” Imani responds. 

“What’s your favorite subject?” Asks the woman.

“Math,” Imani answers easily. 

“You better stick with that,” says the woman in Ms. Jasmine’s chair. “And you’ll be balling one day.” 

Imani smiles. “Thanks,” she says sheepishly. She feels her face go hot. 

“You should feel proud,” says Ms. Coco. “Show the world your Black girl magic. I know you’re extremely smart. Don’t sleep on that.” 

“That’s right,” adds Ms. Athena. “Get your education and you’ll go far. You’re brilliant, Mama. Keep that up.” 

The other women in the shop are nodding. 

Imani smiles. _This_ is why she loves getting her hair did.

-X-

**_Hughes Family Group Chat_ **

**Dad:** Morning kiddos. Just wanted to check in with everyone given the recent immigration issues going on. We just got back from the Land Down Under so I’ve only just had time to get the lowdown on everything. My apologies. 

Gabby, Enrique, Zach, and Cassie, I uploaded our (certified) copies of your certificate of citizenship to both Box and Google Drive. You should be able to pull it up on your phones or laptops. That said, it should be used as a last resort as giving an ICE agent your phone could be perceived as consenting to a search of that device without a warrant. 

Your passport counts as a document that establishes citizenship, so please, please carry your passport cards with you at all times. 

If you get detained, present then with your passport card and they should release you. 

However, I’ve heard of people having trouble if their passport lists their birthplace as a different country, which is why your CoC are so important. You all have your original copy, so I suggest going and getting copies made and notarized and carrying subsequent copies in your backpack or car. (The original should remain at home or in a protected area). Having these documents on you and prevent you from being needlessly (and likely illegally) detained. 

I don’t wanna scare you guys but the lawyer in me wants to make sure all your legal bases are covered and the Dad in me wants you all to stay safe. I love you guys so much, and please be careful out there! 

**Gabby:** Yep. Already had issues when I drove back from Canada after our conference. 

**Mom:** Thankfully we had no issues clearing customs when we flew back here. I had certificates at the ready, but they were just fine.

**Gabby:** But at least you guys made sure we actually had citizenship. We literally just got Nik’s CoC in the mail a week ago. His parents apparently fucked up their IR4 forms and he was never actually naturalized. They finally fixed it, but Christ, it was terrifying, especially now. 

**Enrique:** He probably would’ve been fine though. He’s relatively white passing, and he’s from Russia.

**Zach:** yeah, it’s weird how the crackdown only seems to be affecting immigrants from Africa, Asia, the Caribbean and Central and South America but not undocumented immigrants from European countries. They must all have something in common. I wonder what it is. 

**Isaiah:** what a mystery. Sounds qwhite interesting.. 

**Isaiah:** Seriously though, y’all stay safe. And remember: don’t open the door without a warrant signed by a judge. Know your rights, and have an immigration lawyer on speed dial. Love y’all! 

**Zach:** “y’all...” 

**Isaiah:** 🙄🙄🙄

Vic clicks her phone closed when she hears the door chime. It’s been a rough few weeks, and the crackdown on immigration just adds one more thing to the list of fears that Vic has for her siblings. 

It’s been a taxing summer, one thing after another, and honestly? Vic would rather not have to deal with all of this, but it’s reality. She sighs and looks up. 

Leo is playing gleefully in the play area, smiling as he does so. 

And Lucas is walking toward her, a grin on his face. He looks nice, wearing a well fitting pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. 

“Hey,” Vic says when he approaches. 

“Hey,” Lucas responds. “I had no idea this place existed.” 

“Leo loves it,” Vic says. “He’s a big fan of their frozen yogurt smoothie and their playplace.” She gestures to where Leo is standing at the top of the slide.

“So,” Lucas says. He sits down directly across from Vic. 

“So,” Vic mimics. She pauses, stares at Lucas, at his bright and piercing blue eyes. “I’m sorry I left yesterday,” she says. “I just kinda panicked and…” She trails off. 

“I understand,” Lucas says. “And I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable or anything.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Vic says quickly. “My relationship with Leo’s dad did not end well,” Vic says. “And by not end well, I mean that it crashed and burned and it was awful and I still have a lot of relationship issues surrounding that. And uh, relationship issues in general.But I like you, a lot,” she adds, aware of the fact that she’s rambling. 

“I like you too,” says Lucas. 

“Well, I would say that I am pretty likeable,” Vic replies teasingly. 

Lucas laughs. 

“I think we need to talk about ground rules,” Vic says after a beat. “Especially since we both have kids. I think it’s important to consider then before we go forward.” 

Lucas blinks. “You think we should tell them that we’re dating?” He asks. Then, he pauses. “Wait, _are_ we dating?” 

Vic shrugs. “We probably need to talk about that before we talk to the kids, or before you talk to Imani at least. I’m not really sure that Leo understands what’s going on.” 

Lucas chuckles. “Kids are more perceptive than we realize.” 

“I know. Leo’s extremely smart,” Vic says. “And I will talk to him, but he’s clearly more interested in Paw Patrol and PJ Masks than his mom’s relationships.”

“Imani is a whole different ball game,” Lucas says. “But I’ll talk to her soon, today probably and explain that we’re dating.” 

“So, ground rules,” Vic says. 

“Ground rules,” Lucas affirms. 

"I guess we should start with honesty," Vic says. "I know it's cliche, but I feel like that's important. Communication too. Again, I probably shouldn't have snuck out of my apartment yesterday morning without saying anything, and I'm sorry that I did." 

"I understand," Lucas says. "Communication is an important one for me too. It's why my second marriage fell apart." 

"Second?" Vic asks, her voice going on a little at the end of the word. 

Lucas nods."With my first marriage, we were kids, in our second year of college. It seemed like a good idea," Lucas says."It wasn't. We lasted until we realized that we were drastically different people with different goals. We're friends now, actually met again in an adoption group on facebook. She and her husband adopted their twin boys from Korea. Weird how that worked out. And Eva, Eva and I fell apart because, like I said, we didn't communicate. It wasn't a good relationship and by the end of it we were barely talking. After Imani's parents died and I got custody of her, Eva figured it wasn't fair to drag a child into this, so we separated. So, yes, I've been married twice, not the greatest of decisions." 

"Well, my relationship with Leo's dad wasn't the best so I know about bad decisions," Vic says. "In short, he was going through a really rough patch and decided the best thing to do was to leave, which I understood, but things quickly got messy and complicated." Vic stops herself there. She's not ready to divulge the trainwreck that she and Kaleb had tried to call a relationship. "So, communication," she says instead. "I think that's important, and also talking to our kids. I'm not sure how much of this Leo will actually get, but I want him to feel like he knows what's going on. And I'm sure you want the same for Imani, considering that she's older." 

Lucas nods. "I'll talk to her soon," he says. 

"And on that note, I think we can both agree that our kids come first," VIc says. "Leo doesn't have a lot of guys in his life, he's got Dean and Jack, my brothers, who he rarely sees, and my dad. I haven't really dated since I had him, and I most certainly haven't introduced him to the guy. So this is new to both of us.”

"I've been on a handful of dates since my last divorce," Lucas says. "None of them stuck, so I get it. Being a single parent isn't easy, and it's harder to bring dating into the equation. But our kids should always come first, no protest from me there."

Vic smiles warmly. "I really like you," she says. "So I hope that this works out."

Lucas smiles at her. "Me too," he says. "Me too." 

“And uh, if we break up,” Vic adds as her final rule. “We should stay civil.” 

“Right,” Lucas says. “Because we’ll still have to see each other at camp.” 

“Not really,” says Vic. “I’ve been avoiding Kaleb’s mom for four years. It’s doable.” 

Lucas frowns at that. “I can’t imagine that’s easy,” says Lucas. “Especially since your parents are still friends.” 

“It’s not,” Vic agrees. She rolls her eyes. “But it is what it is. We traveled in the same group when they adopted their daughters and my family went to go get my brother and sister. Our parents got pretty close. And then our parents invited them and their kids to culture camp, which is how I met Leo’s dad. Plus, we both have big families.” 

“How many kids to the Richardson’s have?” Lucas asks. 

Vic pauses for a beat. “Eleven,” she says. Because it’s true. 

“Wow,” says Lucas. “Are they all adopted?” 

“They have three bio kids,” Vic answers. “They adopted a lot, and Nicole has a bit of a white savior complex.” Vic sighs, not really wanting to discuss the Richardson Family while on a date. 

“So,” Lucas says finally. “Did you wanna get pizza sometime this weekend? We can take the kids to Chuck E. Cheese’s? I’m on call until Saturday evening, but we could do Sunday.”

Vic pauses thoughtfully. “Sunday probably works better,” Vic says. “Leo has swim lessons at the Y on Saturday mornings.” 

“Does 11 o’clock work for you?” Lucas asks. “It’ll be early so hopefully it won’t be too busy.” 

Vic nods. “Eleven o’clock sounds perfect,” she says. 

“It’s a date,” Lucas says. He grins. 

-X- 

“Imani, I have two things I need to talk to you about,” Lucas says. They’re in the car on the way home from Imani’s hair appointment and Imani’s is still bouncing with excitement about how bright the purple is. 

“Okay,” Imani says. 

“Well, a couple of days ago, I got an email from the school district about your test scores,” Lucas begins. 

“Were they bad?” Imani interrupts. 

Lucas chuckles lightly. “Quite the opposite kiddo. You actually had the highest proficiency in math and science in your class.” 

“Woah,” says Imani. 

“Woah, indeed,” Lucas agrees. “But I got an email because there’s a school in Seattle; it’s still a public school, but it’s called Louisa Boren STEM School.” 

“That’s where Nia’s brother goes!” Imani says brightly. “He’s super smart and he does robotics!” 

“Well, the school emailed me and wanted to know if you wanted to tour Louis Boren,” Lucas continues. 

“Do they want me to go there?” Imani asks. 

“Possibly,” Lucas says. “But you can stay at Bailey Gatzert, and we can revisit this next year, or when you’re in middle school or high school or we don’t have to think about going to a different school at all.” 

Imani is quiet. “So it’s a STEM school?” She asks. 

“Yeah,” Lucas says. “It’s pretty much the same as being at Bailey Gatzert except there’s an advanced mathematics track and there’s a robotics program and they use a difference science curriculum and project based learning.” 

“Can I think about it?” Imani asks. 

“Absolutely,” Lucas replies. “Did you wanna go tour the school?” He asks.

“I think that’d be cool,” Imani says. “I wanna see what it looks like first. It sounds really cool.” She smiles. 

“Well, I will email the school district back and set up an appointment,” Lucas says. “And no matter what you decide, I’ll be happy. If you want to stay at Bailey, then that’s great, and if you wanna try Louisa Boren, we can do that too, okay?” 

“Okay,” Imani says. “I love you, Dad.” 

Lucas grins. “I love you too, kiddo.” 

“So what’s the second thing?” Imani asks. 

Lucas freezes a little. “So you know how me and Ms. Vic are friends?” Lucas asks. 

“Are you dating?” Imani blurts. 

Lucas’s brain short circuits. “Yes,” he says. “We started dating.” 

“Finally,” Imani interrupts. “I’m glad you’re dating someone. Nia thought you were secretly gay.” 

“I-“ Lucas processes Imani’s words. “Wait, why?” He asks. 

“Well, after Nia’s mom and dad got divorced, Nia’s mom didn’t date anyone because she’s gay and she wanted to keep it a secret from Nia. So, Nia thought you might be secretly gay and didn’t wanna tell me. I told her you weren’t.” Imani shrugs. 

“That’s... interesting,” Lucas says. “Well, I’m straight,” he says. “But there wouldn’t be anything wrong if I was gay, or bi.”

“I know you’re straight,” Imani says. “Aunt Deb and Aunt Gia says that you’re “straight boy style” is so bad that they should probably call Queer Eye.”

Lucas laughs. “I didn’t think my style is that bad,” he says defensively. He pauses. “So, back to me and Ms. Vic. How do you feel about that?”

“It’s fine,” Imani says. “Ms. Vic is really nice. And Leo’s a really cool little kid. He’s not annoying like other little kids. And Ms. Vic is very pretty and she makes you smile. So I think it’s good.”

“I’m glad you’re okay with this, kiddo,” Lucas says. “And remember, you can talk to me about it at any time if you want. Your feelings are really important, and I don’t want you to keep things secret because you feel like you don’t want to hurt my feelings, okay?”

“Okay,” Imani agrees. 

Lucas can see her grinning in the rear view mirror. He grins back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene in the salon might not seem like it “furthers the plot” but it was sooooo important to me. Growing up as an AFAB black kid, a lot of my formative experiences happened in the salon. My hair stylist was one of the first people I came out to. I learned a lot about Blackness and politics and Black culture just my listening and learning. There’s something unique and magical about being in a Black salon. 
> 
> And I’m glad that as I’ve transitioned I’ve starting finding that in Black barber shops as well. So, the scene with Imani in the barber shop feeling comfortable and happy was vitally important to me, and I hope that I portrayed it well. 
> 
> Between 20,000 and 40,000 international adoptees are living in the United States without citizenship. Some of these adoptees have no idea that they are not citizens. Others of them were unaware of their status until they applied for a license or a passport. Most of the adoptees without citizenship are from Korea or other countries where both parents didn’t have to travel. Some adoptive parents either didn’t know that they had to fill out citizenship/naturalization paperwork, or they didn’t care. I’m 2001, the US Congress passed a law that gave international adoptees automatic citizenship. Unfortunately, this law was not retroactive and many adoptees remain without citizenship. 
> 
> Some adoptees have been deported to countries they haven’t been to in decades where they can no longer speak the language and where they don’t know a soul. These stories have been covered by a variety of new sources, and perhaps one of the most notable ones is the story of Philip Clay, who died by suicide in South Korea because he could not handle the stress and strain caused by being deported to South Korea where he could not work, socialize, or find help for his situation. 
> 
> I added the bit about citizenship into this chapter because of recent events, most notably a certain politician telling 4 women of color to go back “to the countries they came from.” This has inspired a frenzy of fear and terror in the hearts of many adoptees that I know as well as their parents. It is particularly gut wrenching to see parents of third graders asking if they should send their child’s certificate of citizenship with them to _summer camp._ There are babies in concentration camps in the US and nothing is being done and I am terrified for the non BI-POC that I know and love. 
> 
> Anyway, I’ll step off my soapbox and provide a sources. 
> 
> Articles:   
> Adoptee deported by U.S. to sue South Korea, adoption agency by Ahn Young-joon via NBC News 
> 
> Deportation a ‘Death Sentence’ to Adoptees After a Lifetime in the U.S. by Chloe Sang-Hun
> 
> Tens of Thousands of Adoptees Learn They Aren’t US Citizens, Even After Decades Living Here  
> By Jodie Fleischer, Rick Yarborough, and Steve Jone Vic NBC Washington
> 
> Being Adopted by an American Family Saved My Life — but Trump's 'Go Back' Tweet Reminded Me of Years of Racism by Mary Green via People
> 
> The Trauma of ‘Go Back’: Calling Out Racism in Full by Jessica Fry via Diverse Magazine 
> 
> An Ode To The Black Salon, A Place Of Community And Solidarity by Taylor Bryant via Nylon
> 
> The black salon is about more than hair: it's culture, community & care by Zodwa Kumalo 
> 
> The power and politics of the black barbershop by Jason Parham via The Fade
> 
> THE CONNECTION BETWEEN HAIR AND IDENTITY IN BLACK CULTURE by Ashleigh Williams


	9. In Which Time Makes a Hop, a Skip, and a Jump

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me forever to write. Foooorever. In the words of my favorite play about Shakespeare
> 
> Oh my god, I just hate it!  
> And you're trying to find  
> An opening line or a brilliant idea  
> And you're pacing the floor  
> And hoping for just a bit of divine intervention  
> That one little nugget that one little spark  
> Then Eureka! You find it you're ready to start  
> So now you can write, right? Wrong!  
> You're not even close, you remember that damn it,  
> Your play's gotta be in iambic pentameter!  
> So you write down a word but it's not the right word,  
> So you try a new word but you hate the new word  
> And you need a good word but you can't find the word  
> Oh where is it, what is it, what is it, where is it!  
> Blah-blah-blah, ha ha, ah-ha -UGHHHHHHHH!
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter was also compounded by having a very busy end of summer that included the end of my internship, where I didn't have time to write, especially after our director resigned. Then, I went back home to visit expecting to relax and enjoy life and had a very busy visit that included a lot of drama and also helping a family get out of a domestic violence situation. And then I looked at my life and realized it's been almost three weeks since I updated and I'm a hot mess. Many apologies.
> 
> Leo is a little developmentally advanced for his age, but he’s based off a 3 year old I know irl. 
> 
> Also, while you’re here. I’m changing Gabe’s age to be about three years younger. 
> 
> And as insinuated, lots of time jumps in this chapter 
> 
> Triggers for this chapter: N/A 
> 
> Lingo:  
> Cribmate- a term that adoptees sometimes use to refer to refer to other adoptees
> 
>  
> 
> **It seems all of the technical edits I made disappeared. But I have to be up 6 hours and I need to get some sleep. Lemme know if any issues and I’ll fix them in the morn**

**July 8, 2019**

**Gabby:** Have you told mom you’re dating camp dad? 

**Vic:** No. why??? 

**Gabby:** Don’t kill me! She called me like twenty minutes ago and mentioned something about dating and I may have let it slip. We just got off the phone 

**Vic:** 🙃🙃🙃 

**Gabby:** I’m sorry! Love you! 

**Vic:** (Message sent with slam effect) love you too!

-X-

“Hey mom,” Vic says as she answers the phone. 

“Hey Vicky. How are you?” Mom asks. 

“Good,” Vic answers. “Tired. I just got off and am on my way to grab Leo.” 

“How’s my grandbaby doing?” Mom asks. 

“Good,” Vic answers. She can tell Mom is itching to ask her about Lucas, but Vic prolongs the inevitable. “How was Australia?” 

It’s an easy question, one that will keep Mom gushing for a few minutes. 

“It was incredible!” Mom says. “Charlotte’s family met us at the airport in Sydney, and honestly, the girls were inseparable from that moment. And there were a lot of tears. But Cassie was absolutely thrilled to meet someone else from the same orphanage as her.” 

“She sent us so many pictures,” Vic says. Cassie’s stream of Snapchat pictures never seemed to end, and given that Australia was 17 hours ahead of them, her photos seemed to arrive at the most inconvenient times.

“It was so pretty!” Mom continues. “I think my favorite part was when we went skiing. The slopes were gorgeous, and Cassie and Charlotte met with this instructor who specializes in adaptive skiing. By the end of the day, they were skiing like pros. Charlotte’s Dad taught your father to snowboard and he fell a bunch, and it was hilarious. And Cassie made us tour the University of Melbourne. She’s in love with it, but we talked about it and I don’t want her so far abroad unless she’s seizure free for a year. It was a really great trip. But I didn’t call to talk about my vacation.” 

“You didn’t?” Vic drawls sarcastically. 

“Gabby called you?” Mom quizzes. 

“She texted,” Vic replies with a long sigh. 

“I’m happy you’re back in the dating scene, Vicky. I know how rough your breakup was with Kaleb,” Mom says. 

“We didn’t break up,” Vic says, her voice rising in irritation. “He left and went to Ethiopia and then walked out on his son.” 

Mom is quiet for a moment, and Vic realizes belatedly that we probably shouldn;t have raised her voice. 

“I’m just saying,” Mom says. “I met him at camp this year. He was in the workshop I helped with on Adoptive Parent Self Care.” 

“Gabby told you his name too?” Vic whines. “Please don’t tell me you looked him up on Facebook.” 

Mom is quiet. “That’s a good idea,” she says. 

“Shit,” Vic grumbles. 

Mom laughs. “I won’t look him up on Facebook, but from what I’ve heard, he seems like a really nice guy. What’s his daughter’s name? And how old is she?” 

“Imani,” Vic replies. “And she’s nine. She’s a really good kid.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Mom says. “Sorry for ambushing you. I just know that you were really against relationships after Kaleb, and I’m really happy you’re giving things a second chance. 

“Thanks,” Vic says. She sighs, not really wanting her mom to dig any deeper. “I have to go,” she says. “I’m almost at Leo’s daycare.” It’s not technically a lie. Almost is a broad term, and it can cover being 8 minutes away.

“Okay,” Mom says. “It was good to talk to you, even if you guys never call. Actually, the only ones who call me are Zach and Isaiah.”

“Probably because they’re both in school and need the money,” Vic jokes. 

Mom laughs. 

“Love you Mom!” Vic says. 

“Love you too Vicky!” Mom says. “Bye.” 

“Bye.” Vic ends the call. 

-X-

**July 14th, 2019**

Jenny: CALL ME!!!

Lucas grabs his phone and quickly dials Jen’s number.

“What’s wrong?” Lucas says when Jen picks up.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone?” Jen demands.

“You texted me in all caps,” Lucas deadpans. “I thought it was an emergency.”

“It is!” Jennifer argues.

Lucas rolls his eyes even though Jennifer can’t see him.

"I can't believe you're dating someone, and that she put you on her Instagram story. That's huge!"

"Uh, okay," Lucas says, slightly confused. He's never quite grasped the significance of putting relationships on social media, and he hadn't blinked when he had added Vic's video of them hiking to his Instagram story.

"What's her name?" Jennifer asks. "Well, I know her name. I may be on her Instagram right now. She has a kid?"

“Yes, she does.” Lucas says. “He’s a really great kid, and Victoria is, she’s amazing.”

“How’s Imani taking it?” Jen asks. “Given that it’s your first serious relationship since you adopted her.”

“Good,” Lucas replies. “She really likes Victoria.” 

Jen hums. 

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” Lucas says. 

Jen sighs. “I’m just warning you to be careful,” Jen says. “I don’t want to see you or my niece hurt, and I don’t wan’t Imani to lose anyone else.” 

(Jen’s tone is bordering on clinical, and Lucas can understand why. Sully and Claire died when Jen was in college, and Jen, who was already a psychology major, ended up choosing a concentration in child development and then attended graduate school to become a family therapist with a specialization in adoption issues.)

“Can you look at this as my sister and not as a therapist?” Lucas asks. 

“Old habits,” Jen says. “I’m not saying that this isn’t going to work out. I’m just asking if you’re prepared for it not to. I just don’t want either of you hurt.”

Lucas sighs. “We’ve talked about what we’re going to do with it doesn’t work out,” Lucas explains. “We’ll still try and be friends. I really like her, Jen. She’s smart and she’s funny and she’s just… she’s amazing.”

“I’m happy for you,” Jen says. 

Lucas huffs. 

“Really,” Jen clarifies. “I am. You deserve some happiness after everything you’ve been through. Sorry if I came off too harsh.” 

“It’s fine,” Lucas says. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but I’m your big brother, which means I’ll do the looking out for both of us.” 

Jen laughs. “I have to go,” she says. “I’ve got a client in less than ten minutes and I need to pull some files. Love you!” 

“Love you too!” Lucas says. He hangs up the phone.

-X- 

**July 15th, 2019**

Transracial Adoption Discussions: Dad’s Group 

Admin: A member asked me to post anonymously on his behalf, and I am happy to do so. Here is his post: 

I’m a single dad and WAP to a daughter I adopted as a toddler after her parents (who were my best friends) passed away. I’ve been single for most of her life, following a divorce shortly before her adoption was finalized. I recently met a woman at an adoption event. We really connected, and recently we started dating. She’s the same race as my daughter and also an adoptee, and they’ve really seemed to have connected. I’m new to navigating dating life and I don’t want to complicate matters if we break up. Basically, I’m asking what methods I should take to protect my daughter’s feelings throughout the relationship given the unique set of circumstances. 

**Nikolai Greene** Adoptee here! Great question actually. My fiance and I are both pretty into social work (so we’re well versed in family systems theory), and my fiance actually researches adoptee relationships, so I hope you don’t mind that I asked for her opinion as well.

As adoptees, we are particularly sensitive to abandonment and rejection, which can be difficult when we’re dealing with a parent who is dating someone. Sometimes the loss of the relationship can feel personal, especially if your kiddo has connected with this person on a level that’s as deep as the bond that most cribmates share. 

It’s good that she’s bonding with your partner and as long as you’re not expecting your partner to do emotional labor with regards to adoption, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with them getting close. I definitely encourage you to keep tabs on how your kiddo might be feeling with everything going on in the relationship and just make sure she’s okay with everything. 

If you guys break up, it’s probably going to be emotionally messy and taxing, probably more so taxing than any other relationship break up. Breathe deeply, relax, and don’t put the cart before the horse. Enjoy this relationship. It sounds like you really like this human so I wish you the best!

 **John Jay Jonas** I couldn’t have said it better Nikolai. Thanks for spending the time and energy to write that. 

**Daniel Jones Sr.** Nikolai hit the nail on the head. We can all go home now. 

-X- 

**July 25th, 2019**

“Alright, let’s do this one more time, from the top,” Vic says. “I know the competition season is over, but we’ve still got a recital.” 

Vic grabs her phone so that she can press play. 

“Ms. Vic, is that your boyfriend?” Mia asks. 

Vic freezes. Then, she looks up. Sure enough, she can see Lucas awkwardly standing near the door. 

“Water break,” Vic announces cheerfully. She steps out of the room quickly. 

“Sorry,” He says. “It’s just. You forgot your shoes at my house and you mentioned that you needed them for a class today and I just wanted to...” 

“You’re a lifesaver,” Vic says. She grabs her shoes and then gives him a quick peck on the cheek, aware that her students are probably watching. 

Lucas turns a bit red at that and Vic turns to see all eight of her students for her class standing at the door staring. 

She laughs. 

“I saw your kids practicing,” says Lucas. “They looked great.” 

“These are my elite kiddos,” Vic says. “Most of them have been dancing since they learned to walk. Some of their parents have them practicing six hours a day.”

“That’s, wow,” Lucas says. He pauses. “I just realized that I never asked how long you’ve been dancing for.” 

“I’ve been dancing since I was 4,” Vic says. “I did tap dancing, then jazz, and I competed in both jazz and contemporary through high school.” 

“You’re amazing,” Lucas says. 

Vic feels her cheeks go hot. “You look good in your uniform,” she says instead of responding. 

Vic grins as Lucas’s cheeks go red. 

“Speaking of which,” he says. “I should probably get to work.” 

“I’ll see you later,” Vic says. She smiles. 

“See ya,” Lucas says. He gives her a peck on the cheek, and then Vic takes her bag and returns to her room. 

“What’s your boyfriend’s name?” Asks Preston, the lone boy in the contemporary jazz class.

Vic smiles. “Lucas,” she says. “Now, let's take it from the top.”

-X-

**August 11th, 2019**

"I can't believe we live in the same city and the first time I see you in three weeks is two states away," says Travis.

It's the last day of Korea camp, and the two of them are enjoying a beer in the counselor's cabin before Vic heads down the mountain with her brothers.

"Well, you were in Korea for two weeks, and then I was at Latin Camp so neither of us were in Seattle," Vic says. "How was Korea by the way?" Vic asks.

"It was nice," Travis answered. "I met with a few other adoptees and we went sightseeing. So that was really great. What's been going on with you?"

"I started seeing someone," Vic begins.

"Is it Lucas from camp?" Travis asks.

Vic nods.

"How is it going?" Travis asks.

Vic sketches out the details, explaining everything: how she panicked and left her own apartment, how they talked afterwards.

"That sounds like an eventful start to a relationship," says Travis.

Vic laughs. “Eventful is an understatement,” she says. “He was really understanding, especially after I told him about Kaleb.” 

Travis cocks his head curiously. “You told him everything about Kaleb?” He asks. 

Vic shakes her head. “I just told him we had a really rough breakup, that was all. I’ll probably tell him everything eventually, but it’s a lot of baggage so early in the relationship.” 

Travis nods. “It took me a long time to open up to Michael about all of my relationship issues,” he says. “And they were nowhere near as complex as yours.” 

“They were still complicated,” Vic offers. 

“But aren’t relationships always?” Travis asks with a breathy laugh. “Speaking of which, I met a guy.” 

Vic raises her eyebrows, thankful for the change in subject. “What’s his name? Where’d you meet him?” 

“His name is Dylan,” Travis responds. “I met him at a social work conference I went to after I flew back into LA. He’s Deaf, and he’s lovely.” 

Vic takes a sip of her drink. “Tell me more.”

-X-

**August 18th, 2019**

**Mom:** What shoe size does Leo wear? 

**Vic** 10.5 

**Mom:** And what about your boyfriend’s daughter? 

**Vic is typing....**

**Vic is typing....**

**Vic:** I wasn’t aware we were at my parents giving gifts to their kids stage

 **Mom:** Nike is rolling out a really nice line of adaptive shoes. Cassie loves em. I wanted to see if your boyfriend’s daughter would like a pair. 

**Vic:** I’ll ask 

-X- 

**Vic:** sooo, my mom wants to know what size Imani wears 

**Lucas:** Uhhh, a 4 usually. Why??? 

**Vic:** Back-2-School present? 

-X- 

**Vic:** She wears a size 4 

**Mom:** Cool. What size clothes? 

**Vic is typing...**

**Vic is typing....**

**Vic:** Clothes tooo??! 

**Mom:** Yes, dear. Between your dad’s corporate discount and stuff being on sale, it’d be a shame not to buy it. Plus, I hear Nike is all the rage for kids her age. 

**Vic:** I’ve only been dating her dad for less than two months. Please, please don’t go overboard 

**Mom:** Does she play sports? Should I get her a duffle bag? Or would a backpack suffice?

 **Vic:** 🤦🏾♀️🤦🏾♀️🤦🏾♀️. Just one or two pairs of shoes. Two outfits. And *maybe* a backpack. Please keep it simple 

**Mom:** 😉

-X- 

**Vic:** Don’t panic but I’m pretty sure my mother is bankrolling Imani’s back-to-school wardrobe. 

**Lucas is typing...**

**Lucas is typing...**

**Lucas is typing...**

**Lucas:** Oh. 

**Vic:** Yeah.... I told her not to go too crazy. But giving gifts is how she shows her love. Leo literally has more pairs of shoes than he can appreciate, and that’s with me donating at least half of them.

 **Lucas:** Tell her thanks. 

 

-X-

**August 24th, 2019**

Sully used to tell Lucas that he fell in love too quickly. The first time Sully mentioned as much was on the morning of Lucas’s second wedding, which happened nine months after Lucas had met Eva. To Lucas, getting married seemed like the logical next step. He had found Eva and fallen in love and had figured that there was no point in beating around the push. He had pretty much been in love with Eva from Day 1.

Now, however, Lucas sees Sully’s point, because he’s been dating Victoria for just under two months weeks and he is absolutely, irrevocably in love with her. In fact, he feels like he’s falling more in love with her with each minute that passes. There’s something special about her, something unique. Lucas can’t even pinpoint the moment that he fell in love with her. Perhaps it was over stale breakfast bagels at the astro diner, or maybe it was going school supply shopping, or maybe it was going hiking with the kids. 

Lucas takes a quiet step back and observes Victoria, Leo, and Imani. THey’re standing in front of the kangaroo exhibit, and Imani is excitedly retelling the story of when she got to hold a baby kangaroo when they visited Australia. Vic is listening with genuine attentiveness, and Lucas observes the features of her face, the way she smiles as Imani cracks a small joke. 

Lucas stares at her, and he falls a little more in love with her with each passing second.

-X- 

**September 2nd, 2019**

Victoria has been in love exactly one time in her life, and it happened so quickly that she never had time to process. One moment, Kaleb was just her best friend’s older brother, and the next moment, she fell hard. Kaleb was funny and passionate and loving him was sort of like loving fire. And it had been mostly good, until it wasn’t, until Gabe died and everything fell apart. 

Vic is falling falls for Lucas just as quickly. One moment, he’s a funny, intelligent, dad from camp, and the next moment, Vic thinks she might be in love with him. He’s an amazing father and he’s an amazing person and Vic loves both of those things about him. 

Leo and Lucas got along like a house on fire. Leo loved seeing “Mr. Lucas,” and Lucas was kind and patient and amazing with Leo, and it made Vic fall in love with him all the more. 

It’s three days before school starts and the four of them have made a trip to Staples to pick up school supplies. Leo is staring at the wall of backpacks, trying in vain to decide which backpack he wants. 

“I think the Paw Patrol one looks the coolest,” Lucas tells Leo. 

Leo hums. “But Pider-Man is cool too!” 

Lucas shrugs. “Which one do you like more?” He asks. 

Leo shrugs and Lucas grins. 

He gives Vic a halfway pleading look and Vic grins. All of this feels oddly domestic, the school supply shopping. It seems like something a _family_ would do, and Vic doesn’t feel the dread she was expecting to. 

“The boys are taking forever,” Imani says with a long sigh. 

“They are,” Vic agrees. 

“I think Spider-Man is cooler than Paw Patrol,” Imani returns. “Paw Patrol is boring.” 

“Paw Patrol is usually Leo’s favorite,” Vic says with a laugh. “But Leo’s cousin really loves Spider-Man so I think Leo is trying to copy him.” 

“I want Marshall!” Leo announces. 

“Finally,” Imani says. 

Lucas reaches for the Paw Patrol bag and places it in the cart. 

“Thanks,” Leo says, content. 

“You’re gonna have the coolest backpack in school,” Lucas says with a grin. 

Leo beams. “Thanks,” he says. He holds out his hand for Lucas to give him a high five. 

Lucas obliges, and as Vic watches the two of them, it dawns on her: she is absolutely in love with Lucas Ripley. 

-X- 

**September 3rd, 2019**

“How much did she cost?” 

“I’m sorry?” Lucas says. He turns around to face the voice. The woman is short and rail thin. She’s got dyed blonde hair, and her brown roots are just starting to peek through. 

She’s the first parent to approach him at the elementary school preview night, which allows their kids to see their classroom the night before the first day of school.

The woman’s cheeks go red. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Karen. I was being a little nosy and heard you mention that your daughter was adopted. My husband and I were thinking about adopting, but it’s so expensive, and like, we heard Black babies were the cheapest to adopt and I was just curious.” 

Lucas blinks, once, then twice. 

Karen smiles nervously. 

“How much did labor and delivery cost for your daughter?” Lucas responds in a measured tone. 

Karen’s face shifts. “I don’t think that’s an appro- oh.” The realization dawns on her. 

“Mhmm,” says Lucas. 

“I’m sorry,” Karen says.

Lucas frowns and sighs. 

Imani is standing by one of the computers, looking absolutely in awe of the classroom. Lucas is glad that she’s happy with her decision to switch to the STEM school, and she looks like she’s in heaven as she explores her technologically advanced classroom. 

Imani turns and waves Lucas over, and Lucas complies. With Karen in the classroom, it’ll be a long year, but Imani’s smile makes everything worth it. 

-X- 

**September 6, 2019**

“We survived the first week of school,” Lucas says.

The kids are both sleeping on a pallet on the floor, having just finished a Disney movie marathon (that consisted of Inside Out, Winnie the Pooh, and Brave Little Toaster.) 

“Except we technically didn’t survive a week,” Vic says. “Why does Seattle public schools insist on starting on a Wednesday, especially when every Wednesday is a half day except for the first Wednesday, which also happens to be the first day of school. Why don’t they start on a Monday like normal people?” 

“No clue,” Lucas says. He’s been quiet, not exactly sullen, but pensive. 

“What’s on your mind?” Vic asks.

Lucas sighs. “I was just thinking about something someone said to me about Imani,” Lucas answers. 

“What was it?” Vic asks, suddenly curious. 

“A mom in Imani’s class asked me how much she cost,” Lucas answers, his voice low even though the kids are both asleep. “And apparently she heard that Black babies are cheaper. So I’ve just been thinking about that.” 

Vic pauses thoughtfully, then responds in the same low tone of voice. “The general consensus is that race-based pricing hasn’t been as widespread as it once was. I know that my adoption was cheaper than it was for white babies at the time, and my brother’s was cheaper than mine because he’s full black. My siblings who were adopted internationally had higher costs because we had to fly there and stay there. Most agencies today charge a flat rate these days, but it used to be a much bigger issue.” Vic sighs. “It’s probably one of the most ethical issues in infant adoptions.”

“It hate that there’s so much ethically questionable behavior in adoption,” Lucas says.

“Me too,” Vic agrees. 

She leans over onto Lucas’s chest, and Lucas wraps an arm around her. “Sorry for bringing this up,” Lucas says. 

Vic hums. “It’s fine,” she says. “I think it’s a conversation that needs to be had. I can send you some articles if you want.” 

Lucas rubs a small circle on her back. “I’d like that,” he says. 

The two of them sit in comfortable silence for a long moment. 

Vic tilts her head. She almost wants to say it, to let it slip quietly from her lips. It’s easy enough. 

“Wanna watch Lion King?” Lucas asks, interrupting her thought process. . 

Vic grins. “Yes, because the original is way better than the live action.” The four of them had gone to see the live action when it was released, and while it was good, nothing could trump the original experience. 

“Agreed,” Vic returns. 

Lucas stands and walks over to grab The Lion King DVD, and Vic wonders what she would’ve said had Lucas not interrupted her. 

-X-

**September 9th, 2019**

As it turns out, surviving the actual first week of school is easier said than done. Leo comes home from school on Monday looking positively miserable. 

“What’s wrong?” Vic asks gently.

“Throat hurts,” Leo whines softly. 

“Wanna get a popsicle?” Vic asks him. 

Leo nods glumly, and that’s how Vic instantly knows Leo is probably feeling absolutely awful. The only time he isn’t excited about food is when he’s sick. 

“Did you tell Ms. Rebecca you didn’t feel good?” Vic asks him. 

Leo shakes his head. 

“Next time you gotta tell her, okay sweetheart?” 

Leo nods. 

Vic stops by Seattle Pops and orders a strawberry pop for Leo and a Blueberry Lemonade for herself. 

She pauses in the parking lot to send a text to Lucas. 

**Vic:** Going to have to take a rain check on that date tonight. Lion caught whatever was going around school

Vic sighs and then places her phone back in her pocket. She hands Leo his pop, and begins her drive home. By the time they arrive, Leo is out cold, his strawberry Pop steadily melting on the seat beside him. 

Vic unbuckles Leo from the car and makes a mental note to wipe down the car and take it for detailing later. 

Leo is hot to the touch, so Vic checks his temperature. He’s at 101 degrees, and Vic figures whatever he’s got going on is probably an infection and most likely strep. 

Her phone buzzes as she’s putting Leo to bed. 

**Lucas:** Oh no! I hope he feels better. Lemme know if you guys need anything. 

**Vic:** Thanks! Will do.

Vic strips down Leo to his underwear and then covers him with his blanket. He’ll probably be up all night if she doesn’t wake him up soon, but if his fever gets worse, she’ll probably end up taking him to the ER later tonight. 

Vic strikes his hair gently and watches her sleep. Then she grabs her phone and sends off a text. 

**Vic:** How old were you when you got your tonsils out. 

The reply is near instant. 

**Kaleb:** Almost as soon as the plane touched down in the US, so I was 7. Literally had a tonsillectomy before I even had a grasp on English, but I had recurring tonsillitis from the time I was a toddler and it was long overdue. Why? 

**Vic:** Leo’s had tonsillitis for the fifth time this year. Pretty sure it might be time to talk to a doctor about getting them out soon 

**Kaleb:** Wow. I hope he feels better. Highly recommend the tonsillectomy. I don’t even notice they’re gone. 

**Vic:** Thanks

-X- 

Leo wakes up three hours later crying. Vic gives him a lukewarm bath and then dresses him up in a pair of pajamas and the two of them head to the emergency room. 

The wait isn’t long, as the waiting room is mostly empty, and Vic keeps Leo occupied by letting him play with his tablet, although he’s mostly busying himself by sitting on Vic’s lap. He’s always particularly cuddly when he’s sick. 

It doesn’t take long for the doctors to come take him back, and he gets his height and weight measured before the doctor comes in 20 minutes later, checks his throat and nose, and does a strep test to confirm that he does have stress. 

Leo takes it all like a champ, and three hours after arriving, they’re walking out with a prescription for bubblegum flavored amoxicillin. 

-X- 

**September 10th, 2019**

Leo’s up and active two days later, but Vic wakes up on Thursday morning with a sore throat. She sighs, calls in sick to work, and then gets Leo (whose fever broke Wednesday night and who has been running around since Tuesday afternoon) up and ready for school. 

**Lucas:** How is Leo doing? 

**Vic:** He’s doing is much better and felt well enough to go to school today, but now I’ve caught his strep.

 **Lucas:** That’s awful. I hope you feel better soon. 

**Vic:** Thanks

-X- 

**September 11th, 2019**

**Lucas** Hey, I brought you some chicken noodle soup from the diner. I’m outside your door. 

**Vic:** I just unlocked my door from the app. You can come in. 

Lucas enters the house a second later. 

“Hello,” he calls out softly. 

“Hi Mr. Lucas!” Leo says brightly. “Mommy’s not feel good. She said I gived her my germs.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lucas says. “I brought her some soup, and I brought you some chicken nuggets.” 

“Nuggets!” Leo cheers. 

“Make sure you wash your hands,” Lucas gently reminds Leo. 

Leo disappears into the bathroom and returns thirty seconds later. 

“With soap?” He asks, eyes wide.

Lucas chuckles. “Yes, Leo, with soap.”

Leo nods and Lucas takes the opportunity to poke his head into Vic’s room. Vic is sitting up in bed, looking positively exhausted, and there are several of Leo’s toys scattered across the floor. 

“I brought you some soup and I brought Leo some chicken nuggets, fries, and a fruit cup,” Lucas says.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Vic says, her voice sounds raspy and raw. 

“I also brought popsicles from that place you like,” Lucas adds. 

“Thank you,” Vic says. “Where’s Imani?” 

“She’s having a sleepover with Nia,” Lucas responds. “Since they don’t go to the same school anymore.”

“Nuggets!” Cheers Leo from the kitchen. 

“I can make his plate,” Vic says, moving to stand. 

“I’ve got it,” Lucas says. “Stay in bed. You’re sick.” 

“Not all superheroes wear capes,” Vic rasps. “Some of them where Seattle Fire Department uniforms.”

Lucas chuckles. Then he returns to the kitchen, where Leo is sitting in his booster chair.

“Ready for nuggets?” Lucas asks. 

“Nuggets!” Leo cheers. 

Lucas grabs a plate from Vic’s cabinet and arranges the food onto it. 

“Thank you,” Leo says when Lucas places it in front of him.

Lucas places Vic’s food into the warmer and then sits across from Leo. 

“How is school?” Lucas asks.

Leo tilts his head. “It’s fun! Ms. Rebecca is my new teacher. She’s nice. And she is learning me how to spell my name.” Leo pauses. “My big name, not my Leo name.” 

Lucas furrows his eyebrows curiously. He had figured that Leo was a nickname but had never quite figured out what it was for. “What is your big name?” Lucas asks. 

“Ahn-Bay-Sah,” Leo says slowly. “Anbessa is Lion in Arm-ma-har-is. Mommy started calling me Lion when I was little and that’s how my Leo name started.”

“That’s really cool,” Lucas says. He smiles at Leo. 

Leo smiles back. Then he makes a face that is completely Vic, and Lucas has to chuckle.

Leo finishes his food pretty quickly and quietly, and then Lucas and Leo head back to Vic’s room. 

“Time for bed,” Vic says, giving Leo a very pointed look. 

“Okay,” Leo says, surprisingly agreeable for a toddler. “Can you read my story?” He asks. 

Vic sighs. “My voice hurts, baby,” she says. 

“Can. Mister Lucas read it?” Leo asks. 

Lucas looks at Vic quizzically. She smiles, then nods. 

“I can read it,” he says. 

Leo beams. 

-X- 

“Leo is out,” Lucas announces when he returns to Vic’s room. 

“How many stories did he con you into reading?” Vic asks. 

Lucas chuckles. “Five,” he says. 

Vic laughs. “Sounds like Leo.” She pauses. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver,” Victoria says. “That soup was absolutely incredible. We don’t have much in the way of instant food in the house, so Leo’s mostly been having ramen and macaroni and I’ve just been eating yogurt. I need to go grocery shopping.” 

“I could go tomorrow,” Lucas offers. 

“I should be up and moving tomorrow,” Victoria says. “I started the antibiotics yesterday, so they should kick in soon. But thank you for offering. I really appreciate everything.” 

Lucas smiles. “It’s no problem, really,” Lucas says. “I knew you weren’t feeling well and I wanted to make sure you felt better. Mind if I sit?” 

Victoria pats the bed. “I might still be contagious,” she says. 

Lucas sits on the bed and kisses Victoria’s head. “Oh you are,” he says. 

Victoria gives a breathy laugh, and then she leans closer. Lucas wraps a protective arm around her. They’re quiet for a long moment, and Lucas has no idea what spurs him to say it, but he does. “Victoria Hughes,” he says. “I love you.”

There’s a pause and then: “Damn it, I love you too.” Victoria pauses again. “Did I just say-“ 

“Yes,” Lucas replies, and it feels like he’s soaring. “I love you,” he repeats. 

Victoria grins. “Yeah, okay,” she says. She lifts her head up. “It’s time to stop talking now,” she says. “It’s late.” 

“I’m wide awake,” Lucas replies. 

Vic rests her head back onto Lucas’s chest. “Just go to sleep,” she says. 

-X-

 

 **Gabby:** We have a wedding date! March 7th 

**Isaiah:** I’m shocked honestly. I thought y’all were just gonna stay engaged forever, seeing as you’ve been engaged since Rafael was born. 

**Gabby:** We honestly wanted to wait until his immigration paperwork was done, so now that we’re in the clear, we finally set a date.

 **Enrique:** Who would’ve thought that Gabby would be the first Hughes sibling to actually settle down into a committed life long relationship...

 **Gabby:** I know. I surprised myself too. 

**Gabby:** Speaking of relationships. Vic, how’s it going with you and camp dad 

**Vic:** It’s been good actually. He brought me some soup because I’ve been sick. And we may have said the L word 

**Isaiah:** !!! 

**Enrique:** Who said it first? 

**Vic:** He did. 

**Isaiah:** I never know how to respond after the first time someone says the L word 

**Gabby:** Lol the first time Nik said I love you I just pretended that I was asleep 

**Isaiah:** omg

 **Enrique:** The girl I was friends with benefits with a few months ago told me she loved me and I said, “I’m sorry.” 

**Gabby:** You’re an asss 

**Enrique:** It’s not my fault I’m bad at love

 **Isaiah:** Okay, Halsey, go to therapy. But real talk, Vic. Shit sounds serious 

**Gabby:** It’s not serious until you go through the trouble of updating your FB status.

**Isaiah:** But literally no one uses Facebook anymore 

**Gabby:** That’s *precisely* why it’s such a big deal. It’s one thing to have your boyfriend on snap or instagram. To go through the trouble of making it Facebook official means that it’s officially public and also something that you see panning out in the long term 

**Enrique:** Don’t go all shrink on us 

**Gabby:** I’m not an MFT. I just study relationships and social media 

**-X-**

**Victoria Hughes** updated her relationship status 

In a relationship with **Lucas Ripley**. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please leave a comment. Also, an incentive: the first person to correctly guess the significance of Nikolai Greene will get a 250-300 word sneak peek of Chapter 10**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> And don't think I forgot about the delicious dialogue that happened before the ILYs at the end of 1.12. I have a place for that, I promise.
> 
>  
> 
> So, whether or not adopting non-white babies is cheaper with regards to domestic infant adoption is actually a constant point of discussion and debate. Obviously, no agency is going to advertise than Black and other non-white babies are cheaper than a white infant, but, there have been reports of adoption agencies charging higher marketing fees for parents only interested in adopting white infants. Still, this is evident even in foster care adoptions, where in many states Black and other non white children automatically qualify as "special needs" and are therefore more likely to have their adoption subsidized + receive a stipend after their adoption is finalized. So yeah, it's a mess. 
> 
> Anyway, sources: 
> 
> **Articles:**
> 
> Six Words: 'Black Babies Cost Less To Adopt' via NPR
> 
> The Problem With Saying 'Black Babies Cost Less to Adopt' by Stacia L. Brown via The Atlantic
> 
> Why adopting black babies costs less than adopting white babies by Dr. Brian H. Williams via DallasNews 
> 
> Federal Title IV-E and State AdoptionAssistance: Summary of State Laws via Child Welfare Information Gateway


	10. In Which There Is #BlackGirlMagic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It's been two weeks since I updated, again. And I'm sorry. My semester started (17 hours for the win!!) and I'm already swamped with homework and projects (one of which is a family tree project). Things have gotten hella busy and I promise I'm not abandoning this story. 
> 
> Also, I lowkey hate this chapter and I rewrote it at least twice and I still hate it because it didn't turn out as planned so... sigh. 
> 
> Trigger warning for institutionalized racism in a school setting and also a slur against those with Asian heritage.
> 
> This is relatively unbeta’d so please let me know of any glaring grammatical error. I’m sorry 😥

During the art session at Adoption camp, Imani learned that you can have two seemingly opposite feelings at the same time. For example, you can love your family and your adoptive parents and also feel frustrated or angry or sad that you can’t be with your biological parents. 

Imani understood it mostly then but never more so than she does now. Because now, Imani loves her new school and her classmates but she hates being in her classroom with her teacher, Ms. Kline. 

It starts on the first day of school, when Ms. Kline reaches out and places a hand on Imani’s braids. 

“These are so pretty,” she says, and Imani bristles. 

“Please don’t touch my hair without asking,” Imani says in response. 

Ms. Kline frowns but doesn’t apologize. 

And it hurts. 

School is most good though. Imani makes two really awesome friends. 

There’s Kya, who’s half Black and half Korean. Her favorite science is chemistry, and both of her parents are professors at the University of Washington. 

There’s also Conner, who is adopted like Imani. He’s really good at long division. 

The other students in class are nice too. And Imani loves getting to go to Specials. But she hates being in regular class with Ms. Kline. 

“Ms. Kline pronounces your name wrong,” says Conner one day at lunch. He’s eating a sunflower butter sandwich and apples. “She says Uh-Man-E when it should be Ee-Mahn-ee.” 

Imani shrugs. 

“You should tell her,” Conner says. 

“It doesn’t really bother me,” Imani says, even though it’s not true. It does bother her.

“I think you should still tell her,” Kya says. “My mom says that names are very important. My parents didn’t name me until I was like a week old. And my real name is technically Kyung-Mi, but I use Kya when I’m at school because I like that name too and it’s my nickname. But I think you should tell Ms. Kline she’s saying your name wrong.” 

Imani sighs. “I’m fine,” she says. “It doesn’t even matter.” Even though it does. 

A few days later, they do math games in class. Imani ends up winning. 

“Wow,” Ms. Kline says, and the way she smiles makes Imani feel weird, like she did something wrong by winning. 

Imani smiles. 

“Well, I guess next time I’ll have to make the questions harder,” Ms. Kline says. She smiles, them she pats Imani on the head. “Great job,” she says. 

Imani smiles again and then rushes back to her seat. 

She likes her school, loves it even, but she hates being in class. 

Things are mostly okay until October happens and they start talking about biology. As part of their biology unit, they have to do family trees. 

Ms. Kline hands out the assignments and Imani just stares at the paper. They’re supposed to make a family tree and then they have to turn it in two weeks later when they get to present it to the class. 

“Make sure you ask your parents for help,” Ms. Kline says. 

Imani folds up the paper as small as she can make it and stuffs it in the secret compartment in her backpack. 

At lunch the next week, she asks Conner and Kya what they’re doing. 

“My dad is going to help me call my grandparents in Korea tomorrow,” says Kya. “My dad says they have a family tree that goes all the way back to the sixteenth century. I won’t be able to fit all of it, but I think that’s super cool.” 

“What about you, Conner?” Imani asks. 

“My birth mom is coming to visit this weekend,” Conner says. “She’s going to help me and my mom work on my project so I can have my birth family and my family, family on my tree,” Conner says. “What about you?” 

Imani shrugs. “I don’t know yet,” she says.

“What did your dad say?” Kya asks. 

“I haven’t told him about the project yet,” Imani answers. 

“But it’s due in one week!” Kya says. “You have to start on it soon.” 

Imani picks at her food. “I guess,” she says. 

On the day that everyone’s projects are due, Imani doesn’t bring her poster board to school. She doesn’t bring anything. 

 

The presentations start, and Imani feels more and more like sinking into her chair. Everyone, even Conner, seems to know everything about their family trees, and Ms. Kline is absolutely thrilled with everyone else’s presentations. 

“Where’s your project?” Ms. Kline asks once it’s Imani’s turn to go. 

Imani shrugs. “I forgot it,” she says. 

“Well, you’ll have to turn it in tomorrow,” Ms. Kline says. 

“Okay,” Imani replies. 

She doesn’t turn it in the next day or the next, so Imani has to stay inside and have recess in the library. 

“You’re in here again?” Ms. Rodriquez, the school librarian, asks. 

Imani nods, her eyes watering. 

“What’s wrong?” Ms. Rodriquez asks. 

“I didn’t do my project so I can’t have recess until I turn it in,” Imani says. 

“What’s your project about?” Ms. Rodriquez asks. 

“My family tree,” Imani says. She frowns and she feels mostly like crying. 

“Have you tried talking to your dad about it?” Ms. Rodriquez asks. 

Imani shakes her head. 

“Maybe you should do that,” Ms. Rodriquez says. “I’m sure he would understand.” 

“Okay,” Imani says. 

“I have some really cool books you might like,” Ms. Rodriquez says. 

Imani beams. 

After school, Dad’s waiting in car line. 

“Hey,” Dad says. 

“Hey,” Imani replies. 

“So, kiddo,” Dad says. “You know how at the end of the week, the school emails me your grades.” 

“Yeah,” Imani says. 

Dad takes a deep breath. “I got an email saying you didn’t turn in an assignment. It said it was a family tree project.” 

Imani looks out the window. 

“Sorry,” she says. 

“Kiddo,” Dad says. “You don’t have to apologize. I wish you would’ve told me about it, and then I could’ve talked to Ms. Kline and we could’ve worked something out for you. I know a project like that probably couldn’t have felt easy, and I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide it.” 

“I didn’t want to hide it,” Imani blurts. “I just don’t like feeling different sometimes. And Ms. Kline already doesn’t like me so…” 

“Why don’t you think Ms. Kline likes you?” Dad asks. 

“She just doesn’t,” Imani says.

And then she bursts into tears and tells Dad everything. 

-X- 

Transracial Adoption Discussions 

**Lucas Ripley**  
I’m livid right now and I need advice. 

So, this school year my daughter was offered a position at a choice/magnet school in our area. Previously, she attended a school with a 55% Black population and a 90% non white population. The school she’s at now is a STEM magnet school with incredible programs for what she’s interested in: robotics, computer coding, math, etc. The school is also significantly less diverse, with a 55% white population. Obviously it’s a HUGE change, but my daughter and I talked about it a lot and after we toured the school, she decided to attend because she has a huge interest in STEM subjects. 

Fast forward to school starting a few weeks ago. I figured something was off because I noticed that whenever my daughter talked about what she enjoyed at school, it was always about her Specials or her classmates and she never mentioned anything about her teacher. No amount of coaxing would drag any answers about her new teacher out of her. So, I tried to keep an eye on the situation and her behavior and also reached out to her teacher to see if she could help determine if anything was wrong. 

Well, the school has a grade notification system set up and yesterday morning I got an email saying that my child had a missing assignment that was due last week. My daughter loves school and is always on top of her homework. In fact, homework is probably one of her favorite things to do. I clicked on the notification and found out that the assignment was titled, “Family Tree Project.” I asked my kid about is yesterday and she cried and told me that she hadn’t even brought the assignment home because she didn’t want to do it. When I asked her why she didn’t tell her teacher about it, she burst into tears and told me _everything_. Apparently, her teacher doesn’t like her. 

It started on the first day of school when the teacher touched my daughter’s braids and my daughter asked her not to. From there it escalated and apparently the teacher accused my daughter of cheating on a math exam because she got a perfect score. 

Point is, teacher is racist. I’m meeting with her and the principal tomorrow to discuss things. Coming from an extremely diverse school with a high population of non white students and teachers, we haven’t had to address something like that. 

I considered pulling my daughter out but my kiddo begged to stay in this school. She really likes it, so I don’t want this racist teacher to take that from her. Has anyone dealt with this? Does anyone have advice for keeping your cool? 

**Brenda Hilcox**  
What. The. Actual. Fuck? The teacher sounds absolutely awful. We haven’t dealt like something with this, but I would raise absolute hell at that meeting. Heads would roll. 

**Helen Jones**  
I’m willing to bet the school won’t actually do anything. They probably won’t fire the teacher. My advice? Don’t keep your cool. Channel your inner white suburban mom and lose your shit. Demand adoption competency training and anti-bias training for that teacher and for ALL teachers in that school. If the principal doesn’t do anything, go up the food chain until someone actually does something. What happened was a bunch of absolute bullshit. 

**Janice Wright**  
I second **Helen** and **Brenda**. I would absolutely lose my shit over this. They probably won’t fire the teacher, especially if she’s unionized, and training does jack shit, but at the very least I’d demand she face some form of punitive action. 

**Kaitlyn Cobb**  
We dealt with this last year! My daughter is Black and Latinx and there was another student in my daughter’s geometry with a similar (first and last) name to my daughter. Said student was Asian and White. The teacher kept “mixing” up their grades. My daughter loves math and she excels at it! She was confused as to why she kept getting Cs and Ds. When they finally got their papers back at the end of the quarter, my daughter mentioned that she had been given the wrong paperwork back and subsequently the wrong grades. The teacher accused my daughter of lying and cheating and I had to go to the school and raise absolute hell before the grades actually ended up being changed. Nothing happened to that teacher beyond going through an anti-bias training. I was furious on behalf of both students. My daughter for not getting the grades she earned and on behalf of the other student for not being able to access the resources she needed to get help in geometry. All that said, raise hell in that meeting. And let us know how it turns out. 

**Xiomara Hargrath**  
I remember dealing with racist teachers in school. My parents told me I was overreacting and ultimately ended up doing nothing, which absolutely sucked. So thanks for being on top of the ball. When my daughter (high school) dealt with a racist history teacher who complained about immigrants and loudly and boldly supported DJT, I went to the office and complained until she ended up getting moved from his class, but that took me almost an entire semester of visiting the office every week and complaining.

 **Samuel Hines**  
My adoptive parents actually pulled me out of school because the teachers were so racist! I remember being in fifth grade and we were talking about civil rights and my teacher actually said, “I’m sure Sam knows all about that.” And the class laughed. I remember going home crying and my mom pulled me and my other (adopted) siblings out of school after that incident. (It was far from the first incident that happened to either of us.) We were homeschooled until high school after that, but not before my mom managed to get that teacher fired. (My mom was very close friend’s with the superintendent’s wife and the superintendent’s family was another TRA family.) Be careful about raising hell though. Schools love to say that parents are over dramatic and overreacting. I hope things go well.  
**Lucas Ripley**  
Update: So I met with the principal and appropriately raised hell. On the next staff in service day, all of the teachers are doing family competency training and my daughter’s teacher has to go through anti-bias training again. No one is being fired, but they’re marking this inciden down in her file and if it happens again, they can terminate employment. 

District policy says that students can’t switch teachers in between quarters so my daughter can’t switch classes for another eight days. She also still has to do the assignment if she wants to get a grade for it, although she won’t be penalized for turning it in late and she doesn’t have to do the project in the family tree. I told my daughter she didn’t have to do it, but she doesn’t want to keep her zero on the assignment, so she’s decided that she’s going to turn in something. If anyone has ideas for what they did please let me know.

 **Janice Wright** When my son had a family tree project, we did family houses. I’ll attach the link and I can DM you a photo of what our board ended up looking like. He enjoyed it and it ended up fostering some super productive conversations. 

 

-X-

“How about me and Imani go hang out sometime this weekend?” Vic suggests. “I know she’s stressed about school, so maybe a girl’s day would do her some good.”

“You don’t have to,” Lucas says. 

“I know,” Vic replies. “But I want to. She needs something to take her mind off things, and I can help her with her project too.” 

Lucas sighs. “If you think it will help,” he relents. 

“I do,” Vic says. She gives Lucas a kiss. 

Lucas smiles. “If you take Imani out to do girl stuff, then how about me and Leo have some guy time,” Lucas suggests. 

Vic smirks. “And what do you plan to do?” She asks. 

Lucas grins back. “Whatever manly men do, so probably watching Paw Patrol until I lose all of my brain cells.” 

Vic laughs. “If you really want to…” 

“I do,” Lucas says. He kisses her. 

Vic smiles. “Sounds like a plan.” 

-X- 

**Facebook**

Adoptee Support Group (Adoptees Only!) 

**Lydia Richardson Williams**  
Not to blame everything on adoption but does anyone else feel like being adopted and having lost our first family makes us more susceptible to grief when we lose others in our life. My mom called me a few days ago to tell me my aunt passed away. My aunt and I were never close because she lived several states away but one of my brothers lived with her for a few years so we ended up seeing her kinda often for a few years. Still, we weren’t close and I don’t think we even had that many meaningful interactions. But I’ve been an emotional wreck and have been crying a bunch lately. Just, it feels awful to lose another family member, even one I’m not close to. Am I crazy or? 

**Archer Taylor**  
Definitely not crazy. I find that I grieve everyone and everything harder than the people around me. Loss always always feels personal, even when it’s someone I’m not particularly close to. Love and light! 

**Nikolai Greene**  
Oh my god yes! My racist af aunt [She literally always used to tell my parents that she was disappointed that they went to Russia and brought home a “chink.” (I’m half Kyrgyz, a quarter Roma, and then part Turkish and White Russian)] died a few months ago and I couldn’t even make myself get out of bed for like two days I was so distraught. And I was an emotional wreck at the funeral! No idea why I was like this. Definitely something I wanna look into! I hope things get better for you. Text me or Gabby if you need anything. 

-X-

“This is my favorite place to get my nails done,” Ms. Vic says. “Although I don’t get my nails done very often, only when the kids in my dance class have a performance or recital coming up.” 

“Dad paints my nails sometimes,” Imani says. “He does a really good job, but I’ve never actually had it done at a salon.”

“Well, this salon is really nice, and they make your hands feel super soft,” Ms. Vic says. 

Imani smiles as they enter the salon. “That sounds so cool!” She says.

The nail salon is busy when they enter, since it’s a Saturday morning, but so Imani and Ms. Vic have to wait in line for a few minutes. 

“Good morning. We’re here for a manicure appointment,” Ms. Vic says. 

The clerk smiles. “Victoria?” She asks. 

“That’s us,” Ms. Vic says. 

“Awesome,” the clerk says. “So, I’ve got one ultimate manicure and one kid’s ultimate manicure, correct?” 

Ms. Vic nods. 

“Alright,” the clerk says. He turns to Imani. “How about you and your mom go and pick out some nail polish and someone will come get you in just a moment?” 

“Okay,” Imani says. She smiles. “Thank you.” 

She turns around and she and Ms. Vic head over to the wall of nail polish. 

“I want something sparkly,” Imani says. “And blue.” 

Ms. Vic hums. “I think I might do something red.” 

“Dad likes red,” Imani says helpfully. “Cuz he’s a firefighter and firefighters like the color red.” 

Ms. Vic grins. 

Imani stares at the wall of nail polish. Finally, she finds a baby blue she likes and a clear glitter coating to go over it.

Ms. Vic picks a bright red color. 

“Your nails are going to look awesome,” Ms. Vic says. 

Imani grins. “I hope so,” she says, twirling around the colors in her hand. 

One of the nail technicians calls their name.

“You ready?” Ms. Vic says. 

“Yup,” Imani says. She grins. A Saturday relaxing and having fun is exactly what she needs and getting their nails done is a great place to start. 

-X-

Instragram  
vhughes: Spending a Saturday with one of my favorite nine year olds. First stop: Nails  
Next: Oatmeal cookies and homework. #SaturdaysAreForTheGirls  
#BlackGirlMagic 

-X-

“I don’t know why I have to do the project still,” Imani says. 

They’re sitting at Vic’s kitchen table, glue sticks, paper, and the giant white poster board. The oatmeal cookies are fresh out of the oven. 

“I’m sorry that you have to,” Vic says honestly. 

“Did you ever have to do a family tree project?” Imani asks. 

Vic shakes her head. “I didn’t have to do one until I started college. My mom homeschooled me and my siblings. And the one in college had a lot less glue sticks than this.” 

Imani smiles. “I’m glad we decided on family houses,” she says. “I think it’s better than a tree.” 

“Alright,” says Vic. “So we have five houses, right? You and your Dad, your Dad’s parents and his sister, your first parents family, and then other important people.”

“Hmmm,” Imani says. “And Dad gave me copies of photos of my birth parents and all of the names of my first parents’s parents.”

Imani pauses, and the two of them work quietly.

“I’m glad I get to move out of Ms. Kline’s class once this quarter is over. I met my new teacher, and she’s really nice. But I’m sad I can’t move with Emma or Conner, but I’ll still get to see them at lunch and during specials.” 

“That’s great,” Vic says. 

Imani takes a slow, deliberate breath. “Can I tell you a secret?” She asks. 

Vic pauses. “Sure,” Vic replies evenly. 

“When the lady at the nail salon thought you were my mom, it kinda made me feel happy,” Imani says. She pauses. “It’s because whenever I go out with Dad, people always think my dad is my babysitter or something, and then when I tell them that he’s my dad, people always know I’m adopted, and sometimes I don’t want people to know I’m adopted.” 

“I know what that feels like. I think a lot of people. You remember Isaiah, right?” 

Imani nods. 

“When Isaiah was in his first semester of college, he didn’t really tell anyone about our parents at first, because he didn’t really want people to know he was adopted. He told his friend’s later, but he said that he liked not being known as ‘the adopted kid’ for just a little while. It used to bother me sometimes, but now I don’t mind as much.”

“I have a lot of big feelings about it,” Imani says. “I love my dad and he’s an awesome dad but sometimes I feel frustrated. My friend Conner is adopted too, but he’s White and his parents are White. And even he has big feelings. But Conner says he goes to therapy sometimes and he talks about it to his therapist.” 

“Do you think that would help?” Vic asks. They had helped her a lot when she was a kid, and she was thankful that her parents had sought it out. 

“Maybe,” Imani says. “I think so.” 

“Maybe we can talk to your dad about it,” Vic says. 

They work in silence for a few moments, gluing and writing as they go.

“Ms. Vic?” Imani says once they’re nearly done. 

Vic looks up. 

“Can I put the picture of me and Dad and you and Leo from when we went to the zoo in the house with ‘Other Important People?’” Imani blurts, her words running together. 

Vic grins. “Of course,” she says. 

Imani beams. 

-X- 

The house is suspiciously quiet when the two of them get home. 

The only thing that’s making noise is the TV blaring Paw Patrol. 

Vic hums, wondering where Lucas and Leo are. 

She enters the living room, where there is a very elaborate pillow fort set up.

Vic grins, then walks around to turn down the television. 

She peeks inside of the fort, and then she sees them. Leo and Lucas are lying on the floor of the fort, both of them are dead asleep, with Leo curled up against Lucas. 

Vic pulls out her phone and snaps a photo. 

-X- 

Instagram  
vhughes: My favorite boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I really waffled with posting this chapter for a variety of reasons. One, the subject matter discussed here is heavy. Two I wondered how my audience (which, statistically speaking, is probably mostly white) would perceive it, mainly because injustices like these happening in our school districts in 2019 _seem_ unbelievable. And yet, it's happened and it keeps happening. 
> 
> Fun fact: a lot of the things Imani experiences are based on my own experience with a horrifically racist teacher when I was in elementary school. My teacher repeatedly accused me of cheating on test on multiple occasions. She accused me of lying when I told her I could play chess. She made snide comments about how intelligent I was. (As a kid I was reading and doing mathematics on an average of two grade levels ahead for math and about four grade levels ahead for reading. I used to be a smart kid.) Literally, I hated going to school and my mom knew something was wrong even though I decided not to tell her anything about it. And those are just the incidents I remember. I do know that there was one incident I don't remember that was bad enough that my mother immediately pulled myself and my sister from that school. And that was in the mid 2000s. 
> 
> Some of these stories I mentioned I pulled from stories I've heard from actual parents of students currently in school. In the US, our school system is one of the biggest breeding grounds for institutionalized racism. There's a reason the saying "preschool to prison" pipeline was coined. 
> 
> Anyway, without further ado, here's some sources for this chapter:
> 
> Articles:  
> A Yale Study Charts the Impact of Racism in Preschools via Racial Equity Institute
> 
> I Was a Racist Teacher and I Didn’t Even Know It by Laurie Calvert via Education Post 
> 
> Teacher's alleged mock slave auction in 5th grade class prompts AG response via NBC News 
> 
> The Dreaded Family Tree Assignment in Adoption via Creating a Family
> 
> Family Tree Projects Trigger Adoption Trauma via IAmAdopted.net
> 
> Why We Need To Stop Asking Kids To Do These School Projects by Rachel Garlinghouse via Scary Mommy
> 
> Dear White Teachers: You Can't Love Your Black Students If You Don't Know Them via Education Week 
> 
> Unpacking the trauma of racist teachers: ‘He asked if my henna was dirt’ vi gal-dem
> 
> Adoption Awareness in Adoption Awareness in School Assignments: A Guide for Parents and Educators via AdoptionPolicy.Org (This is where I got the idea for family houses and you can see an example if you'd like!)
> 
>  
> 
> Videos: 
> 
> The Adopted Life Episodes #1, #2, and #3 via YouTube 
> 
> What do you do when your teacher is racist? via CNN News
> 
>  
> 
> Please leave a comment. Things have been rough and it's difficult staying motivated to write. Plus, I really hated how this chapter turned out but after writing parts of this repeatedly, this is the version I’m most happy with. 
> 
> Also, also, this chapter is the calm before the storm, so to speak. See y'all next time!


	11. In Which We Meet Old Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mixed feelings about this chapter, per usual. There’s a lot going on in this chapter and unfortunately, not a whole lotta vicley. But it’s important. It sets the stage for the next few chapters. 
> 
> Also, my apologies if you’re a Mormon, but Mormonism was a super convenient vehicle for some of the plot points of this story. 
> 
> Trigger warnings: uhh minor references to institutional racism and death of a family member

**June 3, 2006**

“Do any of you guys feel like you might have complex feelings regarding your adoption?” The facilitator asks. 

Someone raises their hand. “I do,” he says. “I know I’m supposed to feel lucky or grateful or whatever, but every time I stop and think about what was done to me, what was done to us, I get pissed. I had a family when I was in Ethiopia, but they were poor and my parents were wealthy and they were white and they were friendly and somehow they convinced my parents to relinquish me and my brother. And I don’t understand how or why anyone thinks it’s acceptable to take someone from a loving family just because their family is poor. So I don’t have conflicting feelings, actually; I’m just pissed about what was done to me.”

“That’s an interesting perspective Kaleb,” the facilitator says. “I understand you’re feeling angry.” 

“No shit,” Enrique says under his breath. 

Kaleb snickers in response. 

Afterward, Gabe, Vic’s camp best friend, points at Kaleb while they’re waiting for their next activity to begin.“That’s my brother,” says Gabe. “My biological brother,” he adds.

Vic raises an eyebrow. Gabe and Kaleb look enough alike to be brothers, but it’s hard to believe that someone so angry and aggressive could be brothers with someone so mild mannered and unassuming like Gabe. 

“You guys are different,” Vic says. Quietly, however, she’s observing Kaleb. He looks different than he did when Vic first met him when they were in China three years ago.

Kaleb and Gabe are different. For one, Kaleb is just a bit cuter than his brother. He’s tall, but he’s more muscled and less lanky than Gabe is. His eyes are intense and they’re a light shade of brown. 

Even now, as Kaleb sits, it’s clear that he’s angry about something. It radiates off of him in waves. 

“Believe me,” Gabe says, jolting Vic from her thoughts. “I know. He’s in big trouble with our parents right now,” he continues. 

“Because he’s angry?” Vic asks, tilting her head. 

“Because he destroyed some of their property,” Gabe replies. “And he smoked weed with one of his friends. My dad was furious.” Gabe sighs.

“How do you feel about it?’ Vic asks genuinely. “Are you angry?”

“Sometimes,” Gabe says. “But I try not to dwell on it. When I get angry about my parents, I just consider, Doctrines and Covenants 64:9-11. _Wherefore, I say unto you, that ye ought to forgive one another; for he that forgiveth not his brother his trespasses standeth condemned before the Lord; for there remaineth in him the greater sin._ If I stay angry at my parents, then I’m the one who is committing the greater sin.” 

“And Kaleb doesn’t believe that?” Vic asks. 

“He’d rather be angry,” Gabe replies. “He doesn’t agree with the Church. He says it’s racist because they didn’t allow Black people to obtain priesthood until 1978. That’s another thing he and my parents fight about. Kaleb refuses to speak during Family Home Evenings and he said he doesn’t want the Melchizedek Priesthood which means he won’t go on a mission after he graduates. Everything has been tense in our house since that happened.” 

“And how are you holding up with that?” Vic asks. She doesn’t know much about Mormonism. She and her family are Baptists, but the way Gabe talks about it makes Vic think that it’s important. 

“Me,” Gabe says. He grins. “I’m the good child. I help mom with school and with the littles and I do my chores and listen. It’s the least I could do, especially given how chaotic the house is with me and Kaleb and the littles. I do what I can.”

Vic smiles back at him. “I know what’s it’s like to have a chaotic house,” she says. “We just got used to having Zach and Cassie around.” 

“It’s weird because it was just me and Kaleb and out parents and now there’s Samuel and Dassah and Lydia and Rachal and the house is endlessly more chaotic,” Gabe says. “My mom says if things get more chaotic, she might not even be able to keep taking me to dance practice so often. I practice three days a week, and my coach says I’m good enough that I could get a scholarship.” 

“I practice four days a week,” Vic says. “And I’ve had to miss a few because Zach and Cassie have so many appointments and Cassie only just stopped breaking bones. They’re hoping with the surgery she just had, her legs will be strong enough for her to walk.” 

“That’s cool,” Gabe says. “Rachal just learned to walk, and Lydia just had surgery for her heart, so she’s mostly fine now. Ironically, it’s Kaleb who’s giving Mom the most trouble, and he’s the oldest.” 

Vic shifts in her seat and glances back at Kaleb. He’s chatting with Enrique and he’s halfway smiling. He looks cute like that. 

“Your brother is kinda cute,” Vic says.

Gabe rolls his eyes. “My friends always say that, but trust me, you do not want to date him. You’re too good for him.”

-X-

 **Jack:** SOS! Kaleb is back in Seattle. 

**Vic:** Vic questioned “SOS! Kaleb is back in Seattle.” 

**Vic:** Why? And how did you find out? Also, he didn’t tell me and I literally texted him yesterday. 

**Jack:** he was on Lydia’s Instagram story. And I know a few days ago in the adoptee only Facebook group, Lydia mentioned that her aunt died. I’m assuming it’s the one Kaleb lived with.

 **Vic:** Shit. I’ll text Lydia. Thanks for the heads up. 

**Jack:** Anytime! 

-X- 

**Vic:** Hey, is your brother in Seattle 

**Lydia:** Yes... he didn’t tell you? My aunt passed away so the whole family is in Seattle 

**Vic:** He didn’t tell me anything 

**Lydia:** Crap! I’m sorry! I would’ve told you but I’ve been busy putting out fires between my mom and Kaleb, everything going on with Delilah, and also Dassah dropping a bombshell on us yesterday. Plus, this semester just started and between getting updates for the classes I’m missing and trying to coordinate childcare with hubby and babysitters from halfway across the country, it’s been stressful. 

**Vic:** I don’t blame you. Sounds like you’ve been busy! 

**Lydia:** Do you want me to say something to him? 

**Vic:** Actually, don’t. If he wanted to see either of us, he would have texted and told me he was in Seattle . 

-X-

 **Lydia Richardson Williams**  
Sorry for posting so much in this group. My life is falling apart. Okay, but I am so sick of being the “good” sibling. So many of my siblings have bad relationships with our adoptive parents but my aunt passed away about a week ago and we’ve all been in the same city for the last few days and I’m ready to pull my hair out with a fork. I’ve been trying to diffuse multiple arguments and also trying my best to keep people away from each other. Oh yeah, and my sister (fellow China adoptee) just announced to my parents that she’s an atheist. And, for those of you keeping score at home, this makes 4 out of 5 of my parents adult children deciding to leave the Mormon faith in which we were raised. (Shocking, shocking I know. /s) I cannot wait to fly home in three days and do nothing but cuddle my husband and my boys. 

-X- 

**Lydia:** Hey, Vic, sorry to bother you but did you want to grab coffee or something? I need to rant to someone who knows my family but isn’t one of my siblings. 

**Vic:** Sure. I know a place with good coffee and bagels. 

-X-

“Thanks for coffee,” Lydia says. “I needed to get out of dealing with everyone.” 

“It’s no problem,” Vic says. “I’m glad to grab coffee. It’s been awhile.” 

“It has,” Lydia agrees. Lydia hums. She bows her head for a moment, whispers, “Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen.” And then she crosses herself. “It feels wrong drinking coffee,” Lydia says as she takes a sip. “After so many years of not being allowed to have it. But, hey, perks of converting religions, I guess.”

Vic smiles. “How’s your mom take the news about Rachal?” 

“She cried a lot,” Lydia says. “But it was better than how she reacted when she found out that I was converting to Catholicism so that I could marry my boyfriend and it’s miles better than when she found out that Kaleb converted. Not that she was thrilled or anything. I don’t exactly remember what happened because Sam was too busy fighting with Delilah.” 

“How is Delilah doing?” Vic asks. Even though Vic tries to stay out of the Richardson family gossip, Vic still knows more than she really wants to, like the fact that Delilah Richardson now lives with Lydia full time after having a massive falling out with their dad. 

“She’s actually doing pretty great,” Lydia replies. “It’s weird trying to parent a teenager, but she’s doing much better in my house than she was with our parents. I think it was just too chaotic and she needed an environment where she could be known. She’s a huge help with the twins, and she jumps in with babysitting whenever me or Dante have night classes.” 

“I’m glad she’s doing well,” Vic says. 

“It’s been a wild few months, but I things have actually settled down,” Lydia says. “It’s been good, or it was as good as it can be. Because my family is a mess.”

Vic nods, giving Lydia the time and space to rant. 

 

“I’m just tired of dealing with my family,” Lydia says. “So, I’m a social work major, right? And one of the classes I’m required to take is Theories of Family Development. And in that class, we have to do a family chronology and a genogram, which is basically a really complex family tree that charts family relationships and stuff. And my professor said, ‘I know some of you have complicated family relationships, and if you do, come talk to me. And I can promise you that I’ve heard it all, so there’s nothing you can tell me that’s going to make me drop my jaw.’ And so I went to her office hours right, to talk to her about my family tree and how complicated things are, and I told her everything and she just looks at me, drops her jaw, and says, ‘I stand corrected.’ So, uh, that was amusing.” 

“I thought my family was complicated,” Vic says. “And it is, but yours is…” Vic tried to find the most polite way to say… 

“A complete train wreck,” Lydia supplies. “I know my mom is trying, whatever that means, but there’s still so much going on and I’m just tired of dealing with everything.” 

“My mom keeps me updated on some of what’s been going on,” Vic says. “But she knows that I’m not the biggest fan of your mom, so she keeps updates to a minimum.”

“Which is understandable,” Lydia says. She sighs. “I’m not even the biggest fan of my mom, after all the shit she pulled with Gabe and then Kaleb. And now with Delilah. And I get that she’s trying. She’s not a bad parent. Does she have a white savior complex? Yes. Is she in over her head? Yeah. Does she deal with situations poorly? Pretty much always. But she was a really good parent. I mean, we had a pretty great childhood, minus the whole bits about dealing with race. But I’m not here to defend my mom. I actually just need to talk about something else, anything else really.” 

“How are the twins?” Vic asks, effectively changing the subject. 

Lydia lights up, eyes bright. She pulls out her phone to show pictures. “They’re my entire world.” 

-X-

“Hey, Leo,” Vic says. 

“‘Mommy!” Leo replies, hugging Vic close. 

“How was class?” Vic asks him. 

“It was fun!” Leo says. “We learned a new song today!”

“Maybe you can sing it to me in the car,” Vic says. “Say goodbye to Ms. Eskedare.” 

“Bye Ms. Essie!” Leo waves. 

“Mr. Lucas is in the car,” Vic tells Leo. “We’re gonna go to Trader Joe’s and get some stuff to make pizza and then we’re gonna go pick up Imani and we’ll have pizza.” 

“Pizza!” Leo cheers. 

They walk out to the car. 

“Hi, Mr. Lucas,” Leo says as he climbs into his seat. Vic adjusts his chest clip and buckled him into his seat. 

“Hey, Leo,” Lucas says. “How was Armharic lessons?” 

“It was fun!” Leo says. “We learned a brand new song!”

“That’s really cool!” Lucas says genuinely. 

“Mhmm,” Leo agrees, beaming. 

Vic finishes buckling him in. 

“Time for Tater Joes!” Leo cheers. 

“Yes,” Vic says with a grin. “It’s time for Trader Joe’s.” 

-X-

He looks so normal, his hand reaching for the cookie butter, that Vic would’ve passed him without thinking twice, should’ve passed him without thinking twice, but Vic would recognize those hands anywhere, that posture anywhere. 

She would recognize Kaleb Jericho Richardson anywhere.

She doesn’t say anything, wonders if fate will just let the three of them be ships passing. But fate isn’t that kind.

Kaleb turns just as the three of them pass. 

Vic’s breath hitches in her throat, and she can audibly hear Kaleb’s intake of breath. 

“Hi,” Vic says. 

“Hi,” Kaleb responds. 

“Hello,” Lucas adds. 

Vic had told Kaleb she was seeing someone. It seemed only fair, for him to know who his kid was around, even if he was never around his kid. 

And Kaleb is smart enough to put together the pieces. 

And maybe it would’ve ended there, but then Leo absentmindedly begins to sing the new song he learned in Amharic lessons, oblivious to the tension in the aisle. 

Vic’s breath hitches. 

“You know Amharic?” Kaleb asks Leo in the aforementioned language. 

Leo’s eyes go wide, bright, and Vic’s heart aches. 

“Yes!” Leo responds in Amharic. 

Leo grins and then he babbles out a stream of Amharic, too quick for Vic to understand in her limited knowledge.

Kaleb says something in return, and Vic gathers that he mentioned that he learned Amharic in Ethiopia when he was a child. 

Leo responds back that Ms. Esse taught him. 

Vic observes, but her eyes drift to Lucas, who is watching the entire scene with a set jaw. He looks unsure of how to feel, but it’s clear from his stance that he’s figured out who Kaleb is. 

Vic breathes slowly. She doesn’t want this moment to end, this instant connection over shared language. She doesn’t think that Leo knows he’s speaking with his father, and part of her hurts for him. 

Her eyes shift back to the intense focus on Leo’s face. 

Kaleb and Leo’s conversation is starting to die out. Although Leo can speak and understand Amharic, he still has the vocabulary of the average three year old, so there aren’t a lot of things to talk about. 

Kaleb turns to Vic. 

“So,” Vic says, her mind preparing her to hear the answer she knows is coming. “Are you back?” 

“I’m just here for my Aunt Jenna’s funeral,” comes Kaleb’s response. “And also visiting my adopters, I guess. And getting snacks. I love Ethiopian food, but I’ve seriously missed cookie butter.” 

There’s a long silence, full of all the things that they don’t say. Vic won’t ask him to stay, no matter how badly she wants him to. 

She won’t do this, not in front of the cookie butter at Trader Joe’s. 

Instead, Vic just smiles at him. 

“Safe travels, Kaleb,” she tells him. 

Kaleb stares at the three of them, his eyes landing on Leo for a long moment, and for just a second, Vic thinks that maybe Kaleb will stay, that maybe Leo is enough. But Kaleb just smiles sadly. 

“Goodbye, Leo,” Kaleb says. “It was nice to meet you.” He speaks this in Amharic and Vic knows enough in her rudimentary understanding to father what he’s said. But Vic also knows that this is really, truly, goodbye. 

-X-

“Are you okay?” Luke asks. 

“Just fine,” Vic replies, placing a dish in the drying rack with a little too much force.

The kids are asleep now, with Leo in the guest room, and Lucas and Vic are finishing up the dishes from their pizza night before they retire to bed themselves. 

“Vic,” Lucas says. “I was just asking because-” 

“Because we ran into my son’s father in Trader Joe’s of all places,” Vic bites out. “He didn’t even tell me he was coming to Seattle. I had to find out from Jack of all people.” 

“I’m sorry,” Lucas says. He hands Vic a mug.

“It’s not,” Vic sighs. “It’s not your fault. It’s just, I kept telling myself that it was because he didn’t really know Leo, and that once he met Leo, once he was how awesome his son was, it would be hard for him to leave. And yet…” She places the mug in the drying rack. 

“Vic,” Lucas says softly. “I understand, I-” 

“You don’t,” Vic snaps, turning to face Lucas. “You don’t get it because you got to grow up with your biological parents who loved you and didn’t abandon you when you were born.” 

“Victoria,” Lucas tries. “That’s not fair.” 

“You’re right,” Victoria says. “It’s not fair. None of this is fair. But, Luke, you don’t understand.” 

“Then help me,” Lucas says earnestly. He wants to know what she’s thinking, how she’s feeling. 

At this point, they’ve given up the pretense of doing dishes. There aren’t many left anyway.

“I can’t make you understand,” Vic says. There’s tears in her eyes and Lucas wants nothing more than to wipe them away. “There’s nothing I can say that’s going to make you suddenly get it.”

“Victoria, please,” Lucas says. Even though he still isn’t sure what he’s going to say. 

“I need a break,” Vic blurts. It’s sudden, and the words are earth shattering

Lucas freezes. “Victoria,” he says, suddenly desperate. He can’t lose her, not like he lost Eva. “Just talk to me, please. I’m trying to understand how you’re feeling.”

“And I already said that I don’t know how to explain it to you,” Vic says. “You can’t understand.”

“Because I can’t understand what it’s like to feel abandoned?” Lucas says, his voice bitter and full of sarcasm, and then he hates the words the instant they’re out of his mouth, hanging in the air. 

Vic pulls back. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucas amends. 

“I’m going to go before I say something that I really regret,” Vic says in response. 

Lucas doesn’t know how to respond, how to convince her to stay. 

Instead, he watches as she walks away and he prays this isn’t the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry! *ducks from onslaught of tomatoes* I’m sorry! 
> 
> Writing their fight scene was unbelievably tough. Part of writing arguments amongst couples, especially ones that blow up like this is that someone has to say something they regret. In this case, I picked Lucas. I intentionally made the fight from Lucas’s POV because vic’s Headspace is almost impossible to understand right now. She’s going through some serious shit. That’s for sure. And Lucas is going through his own abandonment shit. It’s a mess. 
> 
> I was really disappointed that there wasn’t any dialogue that I could really pull from their fight in 2.11, but that same frustration and tense energy is there.
> 
> There aren’t really any sources for this chapter so if you have questions, let me know.
> 
> We’ll get a peak into Vic’s headspace in the next chapter and we’ll also very likely find out all of the juicy details of the Richardson family drama (and most likely what happened to Gabe. I haven’t decided.) Also, there will be plenty of Travis (and ALLLL of the Travic) next chapter, so.... 
> 
> Please leave a comment ~~and maybe if you’re angry enough come to my dorm and put me out of my misery.~~


	12. In Which We Learn A Lot of Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took for fucking ever, and I still hate it. 
> 
> Also, sorry if I butchered Islam/the Koran in this chapter. Internet research sucks. 
> 
> Unfortunately, there's pretty much no Vicley in it, but there are some doses of Travic and my kids being cuteness. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Warning for semi-graphic depiction of suicide and discussions of trauma, substance abuse, and mental illness.

**August 31, 2006**

“You know, you really shouldn’t be on mom’s email account,’ Vic says when she enters the computer room. 

Enrique spins around in the computer chair and grins. “So you don’t want to know about Kaleb Richardson?” 

“What about him?” Vic asks, suddenly curious. 

Enrique smirks and pulls up a forum. It’s from a website called adoption.com.

**Dissolution of Adoption for 16 year old**  
 **Posted by BlessedLDSMom**  
 **August 26, 2006**

So, my husband and I have adopted five children and we have one biological child. Two of our children are from Ethiopia (biological brothers) and three of them are from China (a set of twins and then another child.) 

We adopted our boys from Ethiopia about 8 years ago, and things were going well. But in the last six months everything has changed. 

Our oldest has had a complete 180 in behavior. Out of nowhere he’s been sneaking out of the house, refusing to participate in church, smoking, drinking, watching pornography and masturbating. And a few days ago, he “accidentally” dropped a lit blunt and set our shed on fire. 

He’s very angry that we adopted him and the yelling in our house is near constant. He’s accused us of being “white saviors,” our faith of being racist, and he’s told us that we kidnapped him from his home and brought him here. 

I’m at my rope’s end with him. I have no idea what else to do. 

I know I’ll get judged for this, but does anyone have experience with dissolving an adoption of a child this age? I know Second Chance Adoptions is an option but I feel like given his age, no one is going to want to take in a sixteen year old. I just know I can’t do this anymore. 

Anyone know of my legal options?

**Comments:**

**MommytoFourAngels**

We dissolved an adoption with a child who was fourteen after he began exhibiting significant levels of violence. It’s not easy, and the state will try to charge you with neglect. 

That said, he’s sixteen. I would honestly shoot for him to become legally emancipated or move him with family/friends out of state and give them medical/legal power of attorney. Making this decision isn’t easy. 

Sending prayers! 

**EzraNEzekielsMumma**

We had a similar experience with my oldest. Fighting, drinking, drugs. We were worried about the influence it would have on the younger children, so we ended up moving him to live with my parents. He ended up doing much better there. 

**SavedByGrace316**

Honestly, giving him another placement doesn’t seem feasible right now. But my oldest (adopted from Russia and diagnosed with attachment issues) went through something similar and we sent him off to a boarding school/ranch. The strict rules combined with the physical labor helped him improve. He stayed there for 1.5 years and returned a completely different kid, more quiet and respectful. Highly recommend. 

**OregonHomeschoolMomma**

Hey, please send me a private message. I think I know who you are and I’m pretty sure we’ve met in person. I’m a lawyer and can help you with resources to get things sorted out. 

“Kaleb set the shed on fire?” Vic asks. 

“It was an accident,” Enrique says. “But his mom doesn’t believe him and wants him out of the house as soon as possible.” 

“So how’s our mom involved?” Vic asks. 

“She’s helping Mrs. Richardson out with the legal end of things. He’s moving in with his aunt next week.” 

Vic blinks. “Wow,” she says. “So, his mom is really going to kick him out.” 

Enrique nods. “It’s bullshit if you ask me.” He huffs. 

“Vicky! Rique!” Mom calls out. “It’s time for dinner.” 

Enrique quickly closes the tabs on the computer. 

“C’mon,” Enrique says. “We have to go before Mom gets suspicious.”

-X-

_Present_

“Hey, bitch.” 

Vic turns around from where she’s signing the sign out sheet. “My name is not bitch, it’s Ms. Victoria,” she replies calmly. “Bitch is not a word that you are supposed to use at daycare, and when you need my attention, you should use my name.” 

Donovan furrows his eyebrows curiously and stares at Vic. 

Vic stares back, not backing down. 

“Hey, Ms. Victoria,” the eight yeat old finally says, his face breaking out into a small grin. Donovan’s a good kid most of the time. Vic’s been his court appointed special advocate for almost a year, and she’s really gotten to know him. 

“You ready to go to McDonald’s?” Vic asks Donovan. 

“Can I get a cookie?” Donovan asks. 

“Yes,” Vic says. “You can have a cookie.”

Donovan grins, and the two of them walk out of Donovan’s daycare and to Vic’s car. Donovan immediately pulls out his iPad and begins playing on it, so the short ride to McDonald’s is relatively quiet. 

When they arrive, they get out and order. It’s the middle of the afternoon, so the restaurant is pretty empty, which was intended, so Vic and Donovan find a table in the back. 

“How are you doing?” Vic asks Donovan. 

Donovan shrugs. “Dunno,” he says. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Donovan shrugs again. “Good, I guess,” he says. 

“I heard you got some news this week,” Vic says, keeping her tone neutral. 

Donovan nods. “The Clarks want to adopt me,” he says. 

“And how does that make you feel?” Vic prods gently. 

Donovan shrugs. “I dunno,” he says. “They’re really nice, but I’m scared if I get adopted I won’t get to see my dad anymore. Mr. Travis said we could look into an adoption contract that makes an adoption open, which would be good because then I could see my dad sometimes.” 

“Does that option make you feel better?” Vic asks.

Donovan shrugs. 

“Remember, Donovan,” Vic says. “I’m on your team. I’m here to help if and when you need it, but I need to know how you feel about things.” 

Donovan sighs. “I think I want to wait,” Donovan says. “At least until we know that my dad really can’t be my dad anymore. Is that bad?” 

Vic shakes her head. “Donovan, you’re allowed to feel however you want to, there is no right or wrong way to feel about this. And when we go to court on Friday, the judge is going to make a decision about whether or not your Dad can still take care of you.” 

“If he can’t take care of me, can he still be my dad?” Donovan asks. 

Vic nods. “Your Dad can still be your dad. You’ll have to talk to Mr. Travis about being able to visit your dad, but you won’t get to live with him.” 

Donovan looks away. “I know,” he says. “I just really love my dad, and I don’t want a different dad, so I want to try and go back and live with dad if I can, and if I can’t, then maybe I can stay with the Clarks, but only if they let me see my dad sometimes.” 

Vic nods. 

“Can I go play in the playplace?” Donovan asks. 

Vic glances down at her sheet. She’s got most of what she needed from Donovan, and the kid has the attention span of a gnat. Plus, she still has to do a write-up of the visit. 

“Sure,” Vic says. 

Donovan grins and then he takes off, and Vic begins to write. 

-X- 

**October 17th, 2008**

“Vic, can you come here?” Mom calls from her office. 

“Coming,” Vic replies.

“Do you remember Gabe from culture camp?” Mom asks. 

Vic nods. “We text sometimes and stuff. He’s really nice.” `

“How would you feel about him coming to live with us?” Mom asks. 

Victoria tilts her head curiously. “What happened?” She asks. 

“He’s having a bit of a hard time at home, and his mom has the other kids-“ 

“So do you,” Victoria interjects. “You have other kids and even when Enrique was violent and angry and mean you didn’t make him move in with someone else.” 

“Victoria,” Mom says. “Things with Mrs. Richardson are pretty complicated right now, and she needs some support, but I wanted to talk to you guys before I told her whether or not I could take Gabe.” 

“What did he do?” Victoria asks. “I want to know before I say yes.” 

Mom sighs. “I don’t want to invade his privacy, but his mom did post in a public forum. Still, his mom isn’t very happy that he’s gay.” 

“That’s it?” Victoria says. “I mean, Isaiah’s gay and you don’t mind.”

Mom makes a face. “We don’t want to assume Isaiah’s sexuality,” she says. 

Victoria rolls her eyes. “He’s gay,” Victoria affirms. “And I wouldn’t mind having Gabe here. He’s a good guy, and he’s a really good friend.” 

Mom smiles. “I’m glad,” she says. “Could you get Cassie and Zach on your way out? I need to talk to them too.” 

Victoria nods. 

-X-

_Present_

“I figured Donovan wasn’t ready for a permanent placement,” Travis says. 

He’s got several stacks of paperwork in front of him, and he’s studying one piece of paper in particular. They’ve got court in the morning for Donovan, and Travis is trying to prepare his statement. Vic has already submitted her written statement about Donovan to the court to be read by the judge before tomorrow’s session. 

“Do you think it will make a difference?” Vic asks. 

Travis shakes his head. “Donovan’s dad hasn’t followed through with his reunification plan no matter how much support we’ve provided him with. And none of this,” Travis gestures to the stacks of paper before him. “And none of this matters because we had a meeting with Dad and Dad’s social worker and dad is voluntarily terminating his parental rights during court tomorrow.” Travis sighs. “Donovan is going to be crushed.”

Vic swallows. “He really is,” she says. 

Travis looks up. “How’s it going with you and camp dad? You haven’t mentioned him today.” 

Vic averts her eyes. “We’re taking a break,” she says simply. 

Travis’s eyes go wide. “What happened?” 

“Kaleb happened,” Vic says. “We ran into him in Trader Joe’s and I panicked. Can we not talk about this right now? We have court tomorrow and you just dropped a bombshell.” 

Travis sighs. “But we will talk about this,” he says. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

-X-

**December 20th, 2014**

“I think I might become Amish,” says Gabe. “The Amish have some sick beards.” He’s shaving with extreme precision, preparing to go home for Christmas, where Nicole prefers her kids to be clean shaven. 

“Are there even Black Amish?” Vic asks curiously. 

“There has to be,” Gabe says. “In the same way that there are Black Mormons: adoption.” 

Vic chuckles. 

“Are you ready to be home?” She asks. 

Gabe drags the razor down his chin. 

“As I’ll ever be,” he answers. “Mom’s got a girl for me to meet.” 

Vic tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. “Gabe, you know that it’s not fair for you to get married to a woman.” 

“She’s gay too,” Gabe says calmly. “It could be good for both of us, and it’ll make my mom happy.”

“It’s eternity,” Vic reminds him. 

“So is Hell,” Gabe returns. He sighs. “It’d make my mom really happy if I was married in the temple and if I remained in the gift of eternal life.” 

“Your job isn’t to make your mom happy,” Vic says evenly. “You deserve to be yourself.” 

Gabe finishes shaving and wipes his face with a towel. “How do I look?” He asks. He’s clean shaven. His earrings have been take out. He’s cut his head closer to his scalp. He looks like a good Mormon man. 

“Different,” Vic replies. 

It’s the truth. 

-X- 

_Present_

When Vic arrives home from court Friday evening, she is surprised to find Isaiah standing outside of her apartment. 

“Uncle Shay!” Leo shouts, and he runs and crushes Isaiah into a hug. “What are you doing here?” 

“Hey, buddy,” says Isaiah as he lifts Leo up. “I am here because I had a break from school, so I visited Grandma and PopPop and then I decided to come visit my favorite three year old, and-“ he eyes Vic. “My favorite 27 year old.” He pulls Vic into the hug, and Vic smiles. Leo beams. 

“Is Eli here?” Leo asks. 

Isaiah shakes his head. “Eli had to go back to school.” 

“Okay,” Leo says. He pouts.

Vic unlocks her apartment. “Leo,” she says. “PJs and then time for bed.” 

“But Uncle Shay is here,” Leo whines. 

“And it’s two hours past your bed time, lion,” Vic reasons back. “Uncle Shay can read you your bedtime story, and you can see him in the morning, okay?” 

Leo yawns in response. “Okay,” he says and he goes toward his room. 

“How long have you been there?” Vic asks. 

“About an hour,” Isaiah says. “I figured you’d be home.” 

“I had court this afternoon for a CASA case,” Vic says. “It ran long, as family court always does, and the kiddo wanted to grab some ice cream afterward, so we did. Leo was at the Miller’s house, and Mrs. Miller invited us to stay for dinner. That ran long, and she lives 35 minutes out of town. Plus, there was an accident on the freeway.” 

“Sounds like you had a long ass day,” Isaiah says. 

“Mhmm,” Vic replies. There’s a clattering sound from the bathroom. “Let me go get your nephew before he destroys my counter tops.” 

Isaiah laughs. 

As it turns out, Leo only knocked over a shampoo bottle, and wrangling him into bed is made easier by the fact that Leo is beyond exhausted. 

Vic cleans up the mess in the bathroom and listens to Leo giggle as Isaiah reads him three bedtime stories. 

“He is out like a light,” says Isaiah, poking his head into the bathroom, where Vic has finished cleaning the spilled shampoo. 

“That’s good,” Vic says. “Seeing as he just spilled $20 worth of shampoo.” 

Isaiah chuckles. “I’m sure this is payback for the time we ruined mom’s pair of really nice shoes.” 

“It could be worse,” Vic says with a sigh. She tosses the dirty rag in the hamper. 

“Thanks for coming to visit,” she says.

“Always,” Isaiah replies. “I know we don’t get to see each other too often, given that I’m halfway across the country, but I wanted to come visit and see you during my break.”

“So when do you fly back?” Vic asks. 

“Sunday,” Isaiah says. “Fall break is only five days, and I spent Wednesday and Thursday in Portland with Eli, Mom, Dad, and Cassie.” 

“And how was that?” Vic prods. 

“It went well actually,” Jace says. “It went shockingly well. I was nervous because Dad hasn’t quite gotten used to me dating a guy, much less a trans guy, and because of the whole Daddy issue and the fact that Eli and I have been dating for three years, and I moved to Texas for him, and he and Dad still haven’t actually met beyond in passing at our graduation. And, it went swimmingly. Eli mentioned he was from East Texas and then they got on like a house on fire. Seriously, they talked about guns for hours.” 

“Dad and his guns,” Vic says with a chuckle. 

“And Eli likes guns almost as much as Dad does, and get this, Eli actually convinced Dad that an assault rifle ban was not only reasonable, but constitutional , and I was seriously impressed. They seriously bonded over oil and farms and guns. And I told mom, ‘I can’t believe my boyfriend has more in common with my dad than me.’ She just laughed. But Dad really liked him, and he said, ‘That’s an East Texas boy if I’ve ever met one.”

“So is the next stop marriage?” Vic teases. 

Isaiah make an irritated face. “Marriage is a huge commitment,” he says. “I have too many goddamn abandonment issues to look into that. I mean, look at Gabby and Nik. They were an absolute hot mess, and they’ve been engaged for all of three years and they’re just now making the commitment to settle down. I mean, we’ll probably get married at some point, but not now.” 

There’s a comfortable silence.

“Isaiah, how do you know that Eli won’t leave you?” 

“I don’t,” Isaiah says. “I live in constant fear that Eli will destroy my heart when, not if, he leaves me. And it kills me. It does, but I love him so much that I will risk having my heart shredded into a million little pieces, and maybe it’s not healthy, but I don’t think I will ever get over the fear that one day he is going to leave, and he’s going to tell me that he’s doing it because he loves me.” 

Vic sighs. “I love Lucas,” she says. “But after we ran into Kaleb, I panicked. He’s just such a tangible reminder of the fact that the people in my life who love me most tend to leave. Our birth mom, Gabe, Kaleb. And , I- I panicked.” 

“And you asked for a break?” Isaiah prods. 

Vic nods. 

“Eli knows that I try to pick stupid fights around my birthday and around the day my adoption was completed,” Isaiah says. “Because my birthday and adoption days remind me of being abandoned, and I know that it’s not technically abandonment. She did what she thought was best for us, but to an extent, she still gave me, gave us to strangers, and you don’t give away people that you love. So, reminders of the people who abandoned you hurt, and they suck, but it’s not worth ending what has been a worthwhile relationship over. Camp Dad is really great, and from what I’ve heard from you in text and phone calls, you’re in love with him.” 

“I am,” Vic agrees. “I just, I don’t know what to do. Relationships suck.” 

“Don’t us Hughes kids know it?” Isaiah says with a chuckle. “I mean, Gabby wins the award for longest running relationship and she and Nik have broken up no less than nine times.” 

“We’re a mess aren’t we?” Vic asks. She lays her head on her brother’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, we are,” Isaiah agrees. “And can I tell you something else?” he asks.

“Sure,” Vic says. 

“You aren’t the only one who lost Gabe, and I don’t mean this in a condescending way, I mean that you don’t have to bear this burden alone, Vic. You have me and Mom and Dad who felt that loss. Gabe may have not been my best friend, but he lived with us for two years, and I really looked up to him, and losing him hurt. I just want to remind you that you don’t have to grieve him alone.”

-X- 

**November 26, 2015**

“This might be the best Thanksgiving I’ve ever had,” Gabe says. 

The two of them are washing dishes at the sink. It had only been Vic,Gabe, and Kaleb, as the rest of the Hughes family had gone across the country to visit family, but Vic had stayed behind because she and Gabe had Nutcracker practices. Similarly, Kaleb hadn’t gone on their typical visit home. 

“Why is that?” Vic asks. 

“No keeping Mom and Kaleb from killing each other, no dealing with annoying younger siblings, no drama. Just food, football, and my two favorite people in the world.” He pauses. “Who I still think shouldn’t be dating.” 

“It’s been four years, Gabe,” says Kaleb as he enters the room. He gives Vic a kiss on the lips and places a dish in the sink. “Would you give it a rest?” 

Gabe rolls his eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be finding a football channel or something?” 

Kaleb laughs at his brother. “Fine,” he says. “But stop antagonizing my girlfriend.” He leaves the kitchen. 

“I am so going to regret eating so much when we hit the gym in the morning,” Vic says. 

Gabe laughs. “You can me both. Yesterday, I told Jacque that we had only been dancing together for six years, and he seemed so shocked, he about had a heart attack. He said he’s seen duos dance together for entire lifetimes and they’re not as in sync as us.” 

“Well, we are pretty bad ass,” Vic says with a grin. “Plus, we’ve been through some shit together.” 

“Like you dating my brother,” Gabe says with a huff. 

Vic laughs. “He’s great.” 

“He’s great, and I love him dearly, but you are too good for him,” Gabe returns. “But, hey, when you figure that out, I probably won’t say, ‘I told you so.’” 

 

-X- 

_Present_

“Lucas can’t abandon me if I abandon him first,” says Vic. It’s Sunday night and they’re both sitting in Vic’s living room sipping wine. Isaiah had left earlier that afternoon, and Leo had gone to bed shortly after. 

Travis sighs. “Vic, you’re projecting your feelings of abandonment from important people in your life onto Lucas.” 

“Don’t pathologize me,” Vic says. “Mr. L-C-S-W.” 

“I’m not analyzing you,” Tracis replies. “I’m saying this as your friend.” 

“I just, I love Lucas, and I, we’re in this limbo right now, and I’m afraid that if I reach out and try to talk to him, we’re both going to say things that the other person doesn’t want to hear.” 

“Do you want to break up?” Travis asks. 

Vic pauses. “I don’t want to have to decide,” she admits after a beat. “And if I don’t reach out or say anything then I don’t have to decide.”

“But you need to,” Travis says. “You have to decide if this relationship is worth pursuing for you, and if it’s not, then you need to consider letting go, and letting go can be really hard sometimes, and the longer that you’re in it, the deeper the commitment it can be even harder.” 

“Wait, so you’re saying we should break up?” Vic asks, suddenly alarmed. “It was just one fight, now you think we should break up.”

“That’s not what I meant-“ 

“You’re talking in circles. You’re confusing, Freckles,” Vic says, only half teasing. “Should we break up or not?” 

“I can’t make that decision for you,” Travis says. “But based on your reaction, I don’t think that you actually want to break up.” 

“You are pathologizing me,” Vic says. 

“I’m not,” Travis replies. “I’m trying to be a good friend, and as your friend, I get to say this: I don’t think you’re over Kaleb.” 

Vic pauses. “He left three years ago,” Vic says. “Of course I’m over Kaleb.” 

“And yet a five minute run in with him at Trader Joe’s is enough to make you question your entire relationship,” Travis says. “You’re not over him.” 

Vic frowns. 

“Do you know what you need?” Travis asks.

“What?” Vic replies. 

“Closure,” Travis answers. 

Vic tilts her head curiously. “Closure?” She says. 

“Yeah, so next week Donovan has the final visit with his father before we make decisions on permanency,” Travis says. “For a lot of kids in foster care, it’s impossible for them to agree to permanent placement or adoption until they hear it straight from their parent’s mouth that their parents can’t raise them. That’s what the closure visit is for. That and it’s a way for parents and kids to say their final goodbyes. It is, hands down, the hardest and most heartbreaking visit to supervise, but it’s necessary.” 

“So you’re saying I should go see him?” Vic asks. 

“He’s in Seattle til Tuesday morning,” Travis says. “They’re reading his aunt’s will Monday afternoon.”

Vic eyes him. 

“What?” Travis asks. “I follow him on Instagram.” 

“Of course you do,” Vic says. 

“I think that seeing him and talking to him is the only way you’re going to get this out of your head,” Travis says. “It’s closure, and it gives you time and space to move on from Kaleb.” 

-X- 

**January 1st, 2016**

Kaleb calls at two o’clock in the morning on New Years Day. Vic isn’t expecting the call, and she’s halfway to sleep when she answers. 

“Hey,” Vic says, her voice thick with sleep. 

“It’s Gabe,” Kaleb breathes out. 

Vic sits up, suddenly confused. “What’s Gabe?” She asks. 

Kaleb makes a noise that is halfway between a scream and a sob. “Gabe’s dead,” he says shakily. “He shot himself.” 

-X-

I have sat down to write this letter so many times over the past three days and none of them feel right. I guess it’s because humans are not meant to write about their own deaths, but you guys deserve an explanation. 

Twenty-five years ago, a screaming, scrawling infant was brought onto this earth in a village in Ethiopia. My mother named me Anbessa, which means lion. Four years later, during a time of famine, my mother sent me and my brother to live temporarily in an orphanage in Addis Ababa. She did not realize that the paperwork she signed was a permanent termination of her parental rights. A year following that, two Mormon missionaries came to work and spend a year in Addis Ababa. There, the couple met my and my brother, and six months later, we arrived on American soil. 

I was the good child. I have always been the good child. I kept my trauma to myself, whereas Kaleb outwardly manifested it via yelling, screaming, fighting, and rebelling. I was the helpful, pliant, people-pleaser who would help my mom with the babies and who would listen and obey. It was good, I was good. And then I found out that I was gay, and everything fell apart. My mom kicked me out, my religion rejected me, everything I knew changed. And somehow, I kept pushing. I made it through, even though every step ached and burned and hurt.I still tried to be the good child. I tried pleasing my parents and being a good brother and being a good friend. 

All the while, I buried my feelings of hurt and pain. I buried my trauma beneath a mask that belied a happy human being, who struggled a bit but was otherwise the perfect picture of international adoption: healthy, well-adjusted, successful. 

Please do not feel bad if you did not notice. The very nature of my act was designed to keep everyone from noticing. I did not want anyone to think less of me even though I was drowning, so I pretended to swim, and I kept swimming. 

I was fine, until I returned home for Christmas and everything blew up, and I suddenly realized the weight of everything I was carrying. It threatened to crush me. I don’t know how to describe the pain. 

I realized something then. I belong nowhere. I do not belong here, in America, with a family made up from the broken pieces of other families. I should not be here, and I am living someone else’s life, someone else’s dream. But I also do not belong in Ethiopia, and I can never return, because I will never be allowed to be myself there. I belong nowhere. 

Yes, I have friends and family whom I love dearly and deeply, but it is not belonging. It is not truth. 

I have denied myself this realization for far too long. As Carl Yung once stated, “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” This is what has been happening. I’ve been ignoring the weight of my life and trauma like a frog in a pot of slowly boiling water. I did not notice it was killing me until I got to this point.

I suppose this letter is just me waxing poetic, even though I realize that there is nothing poetic about death. It is horrific and terrifying, and yet it feels freeing, because even eternity in hell feels better than this, than living like this for a second longer. But there is no poetry in death. The reality is this: tonight, I will place a gun in my mouth and I will pull the trigger. And in the blink of an eye, my life will be over. And I will be dead, and I will be free. 

Signed,   
Anbessa Gebrhiwet   
Gabriel Calvary Richardson

-X-

_Present_

“Close your eyes,” Vic commands her son softly as she rubs co-wash into his hair. 

Leo complies and Vic gently suds his hair. 

“Okay, open,” she tells him.

Leo opens his eyes, and then he turns to face Vic. “Is Mr. Luke my daddy?” He blurts. 

Vic freezes. “No, Leo,” Vic says gently. “Mr. Luke is not your daddy.”

Leo considers this, then he tilts his head. “Who is my daddy?” He asks. 

“Do you remember when we read the family book? And how we talked about how there are different types of families?”

Leo nods. 

“And we talked about how our family is me and you and Grandma and Pawpaw and your aunts and uncles and your cousins and our friends?” Vic prompts. 

Leo nods again. “But Max S. from school says I have a daddy because everyone has a daddy.” 

“You do have a daddy,” Vic says. “But he wasn’t ready to be a daddy, Leo, and he lives very far away.” 

“In E-topia?” Leo asks. 

“Yeah, Leo,” says Vic. “He lives in Ethiopia.”

“Can we go there?” Leo asks. 

“Not now,” Vic says. “But maybe, when you’re bigger, we can talk about visiting Ethiopia, okay buddy?” 

“Okay,” Leo says. “Can Mr. Luke be my daddy?”

“Leo,” Vic says. She sighs. The single-parenting books and blogs she had read had mentioned this might happen. “I’m glad that you like Mr. Luke, but he’s not your Daddy, Lion. How about, when we get out of your bath, I can show you pictures of your daddy when he was little like you.” It’s a deflection, and Vic knows it, but Vic is not having this conversation with her three year old, at least not right now, not when everything with Lucas is so up in the air. 

“Okay,” Leo agrees. 

Vic smiles at her son. “Close your eyes again, Lion,” she says, and she rinses the co-wash from Leo’s hair. 

-X-

**May 30th, 2016**

Vic feels exhausted , beyond exhausted even. She feels like someone is trying to keep her eyes closed with lead, and beyond that, everything felt funny like she had been given laughing gas even though she had declined all of the painkillers. 

The baby, Anbessa, suddenly felt very heavy too. 

“Mommy?” Vic whispers, somehow aware of the fact that her words sound very far away. “Can you hold the baby? I’m really sleepy right now.” 

Mom turns to Vic, and then her eyes go very wide. She takes Anbessa, and places him in the bassinet by the bed. “I’ll be right back, Vicky,” Mom says. She rushes out the door. 

The door opens a moment later. It’s not a doctor or a nurse, it’s Gabe. 

“Gabe?” Vic says. Her eyes cloud over with confusion. “What are you doing here? Am I dying?” 

Gabe shakes his head. “You need to hang on,” Gabe says. “You have to hang on, because my brother probably isn’t going to come back, so my little namesake needs you.” 

“What?” Vic asks. 

“Hang on,” Gabe repeats. “You did really well. Anbessa is a cute kid, even if he looks a little like Kaleb. I hate to say it now, but I told you so.” 

Vic laughs, even though it’s not funny. “What do you mean?”

Somewhere, worlds away, Vic thinks she can hear Anbessa crying. 

Gabe smirks. “You’re too good for Kaleb, Victoria. You are too good.” 

“Gabe,” she says, and then she tries to say what she wants, but her voice doesn’t work. She can’t make herself say anything, and she wants to say everything that she couldn’t tell Gabe when he was alive. 

“I know,” Gabe says. “I know.” 

The door opens again. It’s a doctor followed by a slew of nurses. 

Gabe disappears. Vic can hear the baby crying and her mom yelling and her entire world goes dark.

-X- 

Her eyelids feel heavy when she tries to open them, but she manages, and Vic peers around the room. 

“Please tell me I’m not hallucinating,” Vic says. 

Kaleb grins. “You’re not,” he says. “Your Mom is downstairs is the nursery with the baby. She’s been here all night. She saved your life.” 

Vic blinks. “How?” She rasps. 

Kaleb holds out a cup of water with a straw and Vic takes a long sip. 

“It was like after Gabe had surgery, and he was in a whole bunch of pain, and the nurses thought he was exaggerating, and they wouldn’t give him anything, so then Nathaniel, I mean, my dad, he went to talk to the nurses and ask them why they weren’t giving Gabe pain meds, and the nurses gave him pain medication. Your Mom said the doctors ordered you to have an ultrasound to check for bleeding hours ago, but no one did it, and your mom apparently lost her shit when she found that out. She wants to sue.” 

“Sounds like my mom,” Vic says. She pauses for a beat. “I’m suprised to see you here.” 

“You texted,” Kaleb says, like it explains everything. 

She had texted earlier too, when her new dance partner had dropped her and she had shattered her ACL, when she found out, in the hospital that she was already 18 weeks pregnant, and that exercise and stress had caused her to miss some of the more common symptoms. She had texted Kaleb when they had scheduled an induction date, and Vic didn’t think that Kaleb was actually going to show up.

Vic tries to eye him skeptically but she feels too tired to muster a glance.

Vic frowns. “I saw Gabe,” she blurts, effectively changing the subject. “When I thought I was going to die, I saw Gabe. He told me that you were going to leave again.”

Kaleb freezes. “I haven’t, I-.” He pauses again. “I met my parents,” he says. “A week before I got your message that the baby was going to be born, and they’re great Vic. My Mom, my real mom, she was crushed that Gabe was gone, but she was so happy to have me back, and I don’t want her to lose me again. I want to give her some time with me.” 

“What about your son?’ Vic asks. 

“I can’t,” Kaleb says. “I can’t be a dad right now, not after everything, not…” he trails off. 

“When do you go back?” Vic asks, her voice hard, but her hormones are high and her voice is betraying the tears in her eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Kaleb says. “Probably sometime soon, I can’t stand being here, in Seattle. There’s too many memories.” 

Vic winces. 

Kaleb’s phone buzzes. 

“What is it?” Vic asks, desperate for a change in subject. 

“Time for prayer,” he says. 

Vic tilts her head again. 

“I’m converting to Islam,” Kaleb says nonchalantly. 

Vic doesn’t get a chance to respond because the door opens. 

“Good afternoon,” the doctor says. “How are you feeling?” 

“Tired?” Vic says. 

“You lost a lot of blood,” the doctor responds. “I’m Dr. Indigo, I was your surgeo today. We were able to stop your source of bleeding, and we didn’t have to do an emergency hysterectomy like we had originally assumed. You’re pretty lucky.” 

Vic wants to reply that it wasn’t luck, and that if she had had the ultrasound when she was supposed to, they would’ve likely been able to stem the bleeding without a surgery at all. 

There’s so much she wants to say, to the doctors, to Kaleb, to Gabe, but she can’t find the words. 

-X- 

_Present_

The hotel Kaleb is staying in is non-descript, and when Vic had texted Kaleb to ask to talk, Kaleb had agreed with no questions asked. 

But Vic is still terrified. Even now, Vic’s hands shake as she knocks on the door to Kaleb’s room. 

Kaleb opens it a moment later. “Hey,” he says. 

It’s late in the afternoon, and it’s obvious that Kaleb had been crying. He looks oddly vulnerable like that, Vic realizes. 

“How are you?” Vic asks. 

“Honestly?” Kaleb says. “I’m mostly tired. Dealing with my adopters never gets easier, especially because Nicole likes to beat around the bush when it comes to trauma. I mean, hey Nicole, have you ever stopped to think that maybe there’s a reason that most of us adopted kids have exhibited some form of behavioral issues or mental illness, and like, maybe, just maybe, it has to do with the fact that all of us were separated from our parents at a young age?” He snorts, undignified. “She’s got her head in the sand about all of it.” Kaleb sighs. “And how are you?” 

Vic shrugs. “It’s been good. Leo’s been good. He asks about you sometimes.” 

Kaleb hums. “And what do you tell him?” 

“That you weren’t ready to be a father, and that you live far away,” Vic replies. “And I show him pictures and answer his questions,” Vic continues. “And I talk with him about his feelings.” 

Kaleb swallows. “How is he doing with that?” He asks. “Y’know, like, emotionally?” 

“He’s fine,” Vic says. “He has a lot of questions about our family, but I think most kids do. His preschool teacher mentioned that he has some signs of ADHD, but I’d rather wait for testing until he’s closer to going into kindergarten.” 

“When I got tested in fourth grade, my psychiatrist said I had one of the most severe cases of ADHD that he had observed,” Kaleb says. “And ADHD can be genetic, actually, so can most mental ilness.”

“We gave our kid some hell of some genes,” Vic says. She snorts softly. “Two generations of abandonment, anxiety, ADHD, intergenerational trauma.” 

“And don’t forget conduct disorder, anger issues, and substance abuse,” Kaleb adds. He frowns. “But he’s not going through what either of us went through as kids, so, maybe it’ll be nurture, and he’ll be just fine.”

“We both know that our genes play a big role in how we express them,” Vic says. “You were pretty adamant about that if recall correctly.” 

Kaleb has the decency to look sheepish about it, but he says nothing in response. 

“I need a drink,” Vic blurts, because this conversation feels too heavy to have sober. “Can I grab a drink?” 

Kaleb waves his hand in nonchalance and Vic opens the mini fridge and takes out a bottle of whiskey. She grabs a shot glass and pours herself a shot.

“You want one?” She asks. 

Kaleb shakes his head. “I can’t,” he says. 

It dawns on Vic. “Right,” she says. “It’s not halal.” 

Kaleb smiles. “Yeah, it’s been an adjustment, but I guess there’s no better way to become sober than for it to suddenly not be an option.” 

Kaleb’s abuse of drugs and alcohol had been a point of contention when they were together. Kaleb had refused treatment, and at times, he would attempt to withdraw on his own, leading to him being irritable and angry. 

“I forgot you converted,” Vic says. “You seemed so anti-religion.” Vic pauses, and then she takes her shot.

“I was anti-Mormonism,” Kaleb responds. “Vic, I can’t describe to you the amount of peace I felt when I converted. It felt like I was coming home. I don’t know. Learning about the Koran has been absolutely incredible. It’s completely changed my outlook on life.” 

“And what does the Koran say about fatherhood?” Vic asks.

It’s a low blow, and it’s obvious in the way that Kaleb recoils, not expecting her response. 

To her surprise, Kaleb begins to speak, “And those who say, ‘Our Lord, grant us from among our wives and offspring comfort to our eyes and make us an example for the righteous.’” He pauses. “‘The father is the middle gate of Jannah, so keep to this gate or lose it.’” Another pause. “‘If anyone amongst you intends to go to his wife he should say: ‘In the name of Allah, 0 Allah protect us against Satan and keep away the Satan from the one that you have bestowed upon us’, and if He has ordained a child for them, Satan will never be able to do any harm to him.’” Kaleb pauses his reciting. “I know that I’m not a good father, Vic,” Kaleb says. “That I’m neglecting my duty and responsibility to him. I pray everyday that he won’t be hurt by my choices.” 

“You know that he will be,” Vic returns. “You could always come back, figure out how to be his dad. This,” she gestures between the two of them, “Is over. We are over, but Leo still wants a dad.”

Kaleb averts his eyes. “I can’t,” he says. “Please, Vic, I can’t. I can’t be a dad.”

Vic breathes deeply. “You know, if it were only about you not wanting to be a father, I would let it go. I wouldn’t be angry. Some people just aren’t cut out to be parents, and that’s okay. But I see the photos you post, pictures of you with the kids at the orphanage, playing soccer with them, teaching them English and being with them. And it still wouldn’t bother me, except for the fact that you _know_ what it’s like to feel abandoned. You spent half of our lives ranting about how your parents relinquished you, how badly it hurt because it communicated that you weren’t worth the effort to keep. God, Kaleb, if I had a nickel for every time you slandered your biological parents for abandoning you, I’d be a very rich woman. I’m not angry because you left, I’m angry because you know what it’s like to feel abandoned, and you did it anyway. You just decided that it was too hard, and what gets me every time is this: Unlike your birth parents, it wasn’t a matter of life or death.” Vic lets out a breath, and she realizes that she’s been holding it in for far longer than she had realized. She’d been holding her breath for three years, and it feels good to finally let that go, to tell Kaleb what she wanted to say. 

Kaleb freezes. It takes him a long time to consider his response, but he does. “Maybe if things were different, if Gabe were still here, I could try, I could be a father, but I can’t.” 

“You don’t get to blame your brother’s death for this,” Vic says sharply. 

“My brother didn’t just die, Victoria,” Kaleb says. “He killed himself. He put a gun in his mouth and he pulled the trigger. I was supposed to protect him. That was my job, damn it, and I didn’t, and then Gabe decided that death, that eternal damnation, no matter how horrific would be better than another day of living on earth. And that’s on me, not my adopters, not my birth parents, not you, Gabe’s death is on me!” 

“Kaleb,” Vic says softly. 

“I can’t,” Kaleb says. “I know that it’s selfish of me to abandon my kid, but I can’t be his dad. I can’t look at him everyday and be reminded of the person I loved and failed to protect.”

“Kaleb,” Vic repeats, but then she realizes that she doesn’t know what to say to that.

Kaleb is quiet. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry that I left when you probably needed me most, and I’m sorry that I left Leo. I’m sorry that I can’t be the dad he deserves.”

They’re quiet for a very long time. Vic doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t know how to respond. Kaleb isn’t coming back. He can’t come back, not until he faces the demons that have haunted him for years, not until he comes to term with his own guilt surrounding Gabe’s death. 

“I think I need to stop texting you,” Vic blurts, breaking the painfully long silence. “I’ll send emails with updates, and you can read them and you can reply if you want, and I won’t stop Leo from reaching out to you if and when he wants to, but for now I think the instant communication needs to stop.”

“I agree,” Kaleb says after a beat. “Emails are good, and if Leo ever decides he wants to meet me, just tell me, and I can, I’ll meet him. I just can’t be a father.” 

Vic nods slowly, softly. “Can I hug you?” She asks. “When you left last time, I never got to really say goodbye.” 

Kaleb nods, and then Vic wraps her arms around him. Kaleb squeezes back. 

The two of them pull away, and Vic wipes fiercely at her eyes, trying to stem the flow of her tears. Oddly enough, she doesn’t feel sad. Her heart still aches for Leo, who will grow up with the absence of his father hanging over him, but Vic knows she can’t change that. She can only love and support her son. She can surround him with a community of people that love him, and, maybe, one day, she can marry someone and give Leo another parent who will love and care for him, like Lucas.

“I fly back tomorrow,” Kaleb says, interrupting Vic’s thoughts.

“You’re going home?” Vic asks. 

Kaleb nods. “I’m going home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know that, with regards to Gabe’s and Kaleb’s references to trauma that this is a topic that is rarely talked about with regards to adoption. However, I have provided several articles and studies below that discuss this if it’s something you’re interested in. It’s far too complex to simplify into something that fits nicely into a chapter of a fanfic. Here’s a whole fuckton of articles and info that I used in addition to personal testimony and interviews from adopted adults.
> 
> Depressing Fact: Black pregnant folks are more likely to die due to childbirth or pregnancy complications in the United States than any other race/ethnicity. In some states (like my lovely state of Texas) the risk to pregnant people is higher than in is in some developing nations.
> 
> Articles: 
> 
> Adoption-Related Trauma and Moral Injury by Mirah Riben   
> Does “Adoption” Really Equal “Trauma”? Via Light of Day Stories 
> 
> The Adopted Child: Trauma and Its Impact by BRYAN POST  
> We Need To Talk About Adoptee Suicide By Angela Barra via HuffPost  
> Rehoming: The Underground Marketplace for Adopted Children by Jenna Nance via Adoption.com
> 
> Rehoming 101: The Legal (And Devastating) Practice of Sending Adopted Kids Back by Sunny J Reed via Medium 
> 
> When Families Un-Adopt a Child by Jenna Morson via Medium
> 
> AMERICA IS FAILING ITS BLACK MOTHERS by Amy Roeder via Harvard Public Health  
> Huge Racial Disparities Found in Deaths Linked to Pregnancy by Roni Caryn Raben via New York Times
> 
> Academic Sources: 
> 
> American Medical Association. State-specific maternal mortality among black and white women: United States, 1987–1996. The Journal of the American Medical Association. 1999;282(13):1220–1222. 
> 
> Dekker, M., Tieman, W., Vinke, A., van Der Ende, J., Verhulst, F., & Juffer, F. (2017). Mental health problems of Dutch young adult domestic adoptees compared to non-adopted peers and international adoptees. International Social Work, 60(5), 1201–1217. https://doi.org/10.1177/0020872816651699
> 
> Harwood, R., Feng, X., & Yu, S. (2013). Preadoption adversities and postadoption mediators of mental health and school outcomes among international, foster, and private adoptees in the United States. Journal of Family Psychology, 27(3), 409–420. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0032908
> 
> Helping Foster and Adoptive Families Cope with Trauma via the American Academy for Pediatrics.
> 
> Hoksbergen, R., & van Dijkum, C. (2001). Trauma experienced by children adopted from abroad. Adoption & Fostering, 25(2), 18-25.
> 
> Juffer, F., & van Ijzendoorn, M. (2005). Behavior Problems and Mental Health Referrals of International Adoptees: A Meta-analysis. JAMA, 293(20), 2501–2515. https://doi.org/10.1001/jama.293.20.2501
> 
> Keyes, M., Malone, S., Sharma, A., Iacono, W., Mcgue, M., & Keyes, M. (2013). Risk of suicide attempt in adopted and nonadopted offspring. Pediatrics, 132(4), 639–646. https://doi.org/10.1542/peds.2012-3251
> 
> Maker, V., & Herda, E. (1996). A critical hermeneutic exploration of adoption, trauma of separation and abandonment, and subsequent adjustment (ProQuest Dissertations Publishing). Retrieved from http://search.proquest.com/docview/304326215/
> 
> Miller, L. (2005). International Adoption, Behavior, and Mental Health. JAMA, 293(20), 2533–2535. https://doi.org/10.1001/jama.293.20.2533
> 
> Slap, G., Goodman, E., Huang, B., & Slap, G. (2001). Adoption as a risk factor for attempted suicide during adolescence. Pediatrics, 108(2), E30–E30. Retrieved from http://search.proquest.com/docview/71057967/
> 
> Books: 
> 
> The Primal Wound by Nancy Verrier (I will say that I’m actually not a huge fan of this book, but it does bring up some interesting points.)
> 
> Other: 
> 
> Is Adoption Trauma? With Leslie Johnson MFT via Adoptees On Podcast


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